


Experiences

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Branding, Bruises, Caretaking, Education, Gags, Johnlock - Freeform, Lies, M/M, Main Character Death, Obedience, Punishments, Sadism, Scars, Torture, Training, escape plan, holmescest, proper behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Mycroft Holmes has raised his little brother Sherlock. He has also formed him into something usable. He has trained him over the years to finally becomeHis.But he has overdone it, extremely so, and Sherlock has to go to hospital.Dr John Watson is shocked when examining the unconscious and badly hurt body. He realises that Mycroft Holmes abuses his own brother. And he knows he has to act.Upon meeting the victim's brother, John realises he is a sadistic dom who doesn't care about anything or anyone except himself.John is a dom, too, but he would never hurt his sub like this. He has never even seen anything like this.He decides to take care of Sherlock Holmes.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear, my computer ate parts of this story. I am sorry, but this one will need a bit until it is finished. But it will be finished - promise!
> 
> OK, I have to post the whole thing again because all the editing was wrong, as well. You should probably wait until it is finally complete.
> 
> I have decided to delete chapters four and five of the old version. So, everyone who already has read them, please start anew. I am sorry for the mess...

Their relationship was weird. But both of them were happy since they indulged in it. At least one of them was, the other was told to be. None of them was able to relate to other people, women or men, it didn’t matter. Sherlock had looked up to Mycroft since he was very young and Mycroft had never pushed him away. He had protected his younger sibling from their unloving parents and later from the village youth. He taught him horseback-riding and later he taught him about riding-crops and bits and harnesses.

He told him about his body. And they never let anybody else touch their bodies. Mycroft told Sherlock that nobody else was to touch his body, except him, of course. Nobody came close enough anyway. And the ones who dared to approach Sherlock in university were used for experiments on the sex. They were paid loads of money to shut up. And shut up they did. None of them wanted to visit the basement of the Holmes mansion ever again. Some of them never could.

One day Mycroft decided it was time for Sherlock to be deflowered. By him, of course.

***

“Are you ready, little brother?” Sherlock looked up, he had been expecting this for a long time. The special visit to a famous restaurant alone would have been just too nice. He knew he was expected to be happy about what was to happen to him. He had been told often enough. That’s why he answered like Mycroft expected him to.

“I already waited too long. It’s time.” They both got up and walked into Mycroft’s bedroom, where a four-poster-bed sat against the wooden wall. The dark hardwood shone brightly being freshly polished. Sherlock inhaled the scent.

“Sherlock, I want you to undress and get on the bed preparing yourself for me.” He complied and neatly folded his clothes on a chair. When he was naked Mycroft’s admiring gaze followed him. He positioned himself in the middle of the mattress. He slowly lowered his head and chest until his cheek was on the duvet and his arse up in the air. Mycroft longed to touch his plush cheeks but he wanted to wait until he was ready. Sherlock held out his hand and Mycroft dripped some lube on his fingers. He started to touch himself slowly rubbing over his hole. He started as he had been taught with one finger and worked himself up to three. Soon enough he started to fuck himself. He had caught his cock between his thighs and pressed his knees together.

“You are cheating, Sherlock. You need to be taught a lesson. Again.”

“No, please, I didn’t …”

“Shut up, slut. Always too greedy. Now hands off your arse and spread your legs.” Sherlock whined quietly but obeyed at once. Mycroft came closer and didn’t even bother to tease. He just shoved the plug inside making him hiss. Sherlock only had to want when he wanted it.

“You deserve a punishment. You know that, don’t you?” Sherlock knew very well what to reply.

“Yes, I do.” Mycroft pulled his longish hair.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I do, Sir!”

“Very good. How many?”

“Ten, please, Sir!”

“Always eager to please! Administered by?”

“The riding-crop. Please, Sir!”

“Very well, hands on your nape.” Sherlock moved and as soon as he was in position the crop hit him hard.

“Count the strikes! Then thank me and beg for the next!”

“One! Thank you! Please hit me some more, Sir! I deserve it, Sir!”” The crop hit the other cheek.

“Two! Thank you, Sir! Please hit me another time!” The crop crisscrossed his tender flesh.

“Three! Thank you, Sir! Please, more!” His voice became rough and ragged. He hit him three times very quickly.

“Four! Five! Six! Thank you, Sir! Please, I need more!” Now he started to sob and tears leaked out of his eyes. Mycroft hit his upper thigh which was extremely sensitive.

“Seven! Thank you, Sir! Please, some more!” His body was tense and he was leaking onto the duvet. He couldn't hold himself up anymore, he was trembling too hard. He fell down on his front. The friction was intense and he was close to orgasm.

“If you come before I allow you to, I have to start from the beginning. And I will make it twenty.” Sherlock’s arse came up to lose the friction and Mycroft took the invitation and hit him right onto the plug’s handle.

“Eight! Oh God, thank you, Sir! Again!” He cried loudly and openly now. Mycroft did it again.

“Nine! Thank you! Gaiinn!” His voice became slower and slurry. Mycroft had to grin and hit him for the last time. Well, for now.

“Dennn! Annk uuuu!” No coherent speech left. Mycroft was pleased with himself.

“Very good, Sherlock. Now get back on your knees and pull out the plug. Lick it clean and come over here.” Sherlock extracted the plug kneeling on the duvet. He swayed a bit feeling the heat radiating off his crimson backside. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch himself but the feeling was enough to know. He stuck the plug inside his mouth and sucked and licked it clean. Then he presented it to Mycroft with shaking hands. He was very pleased.

“Very good, little brother. Now come over here.” They stood in the middle of the room. Sherlock wondered what was coming up now. He had been promised entirely new experiences but the riding-crop and the plug cleaning hadn’t been new at all. But it had been a start and he was taught to like it.

“Hands and knees, Sherlock. Make your back a line and spread your knees a bit more. Perfect. Stay.” Sherlock stayed and waited. Mycroft rummaged in a drawer and returned with a leather harness he pulled over Sherlock’s head. It went over his head and nose and under his chin.

“Open up!” Sherlock did and a bit gag was shoved behind his teeth. Mycroft buckled it behind his head and closed the strap under his chin. He went away again and returned with a spreader bar. He tied his wrists to it placing it on the floor and widened it. He wouldn’t get up from this position easily. He repeated the same with his ankles. Sherlock could see his hard prick angling and leaking against his belly leaving a trace of cum.

“You are such a greedy bitch, little brother.” He slapped one already tormented cheek and elicited a muffled cry. He tied a piece of rope between his legs into another harness. It went around his prick and testicles and was connected to the spreader bar connecting his ankles. Then he collared him. Sherlock’s head hung low and he drooled around the bit.

“You are beautiful like this …” Mycroft admired the look of Sherlock. The perfect body, the white skin, almost like marble. Well, except for the marks crisscrossing his backside, older and fresh. He tied a rope around his waist and chest as well as over his shoulders creating a tight-fitting harness. He attached a chain to a d-ring on the collar leading from his neck down to the harness around his waist. Now he was forced to hold his head up high. Also, his breathing was restricted.

“Do you want more?” He met Sherlock’s eyes. He just blinked. He knew their signs. Mycroft got the nipple clamps and adjusted them tightly. Sherlock whined and shut his eyes tightly. A silver chain connected both clamps and Mycroft pulled it up to his collar attaching it to a d-ring. How could he deny Sir's wishes?

“Perfect!” Sherlock was wondering what was coming up. He was restrained more than ever. The rope around and between his balls was painful and he didn’t want to move a lot. Now Mycroft returned with a bowl which he sat right under his cock. He slicked up his finger and shoved it inside. He groaned. Then there were two moving over his prostate. He started to shake and make noises. Sometimes he didn’t want to but his body betrayed him. Sometimes he just wanted to feel nothing but Mycroft had taught him he must feel pleasure when he did these things to him. That this was the way he should behave. That this was his life; serving Sir.

“Oh no, there won’t be any pleasure for you.” He took hold of his cock and held it down. Then he pressed his prostate. A shot of cum came out of his prick and was landing in the bowl.

“This is perfect, little brother. Let’s do it again!” He pressed some more and repeated this over and over again. The bowl was filling slowly. And Sherlock was howling. First, he had felt pleasure. Now it was just irritating pain. It didn’t feel like orgasm even though he sort of came. His prostate was over-sensitive now and so was his hole. His whole body twitched which made the ropes pull and when he moved his head the chain connected to his nipples, too. Mycroft was a master. He was perfect. Sherlock enjoyed the signals his betraying body gave him. But at the very back of his fuzzy brain, he could feel doubts. The pain became more intense over the time and he was sobbing permanently.

After some time Mycroft stopped pressing on his swollen prostate and Sherlock tried to relax. He felt as if he could drop any second now. He felt his brother undo the bit gag and cracked his jaw.

“Lap it up!” He held the bowl under his nose and Sherlock looked into it filled with his own cum. This was new. He licked his lips and started lapping up the creamy fluid until the bowl was empty. It had been still warm and tasted after the fruits he had had for dinner and something musky.

“Did you like it?” Sherlock nodded carefully.

“Yes, Sir, thank you! It was fantastic, Sir!” He was only happy he hadn't thrown up as he felt like at the beginning. He concentrated on servicing Sir and what he would do to him if he threw up.

“Tell me what you want to do now!” He tried to look up at him and lifted his head as much as the chain attached to his nipples would allow. It stung but he wanted to see his brother.

“I want Sir to deflower me in any way he sees fit. I have been waiting for Sir. Please, Sir, I beg you!” Sherlock had been taught how to beg for years now. He knew what Mycroft wanted to hear. He knew why he had been brought here and prepared like this.

“Sherlock, you make me weak!” He fell on his knees in front of his little brother and kissed him roughly. He quickly got rid of the harness and everything else. Sherlock wasn't able to hold himself up now and fell on his side. He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Here, hold my hand.” He reached out and Mycroft pulled him up on his shaking legs. He lifted him up and carried him over to the bed.

“Rest for a while, little brother. I will be back.” He held his hand until he was asleep. He looked at him for some more minutes and savoured the view.

He didn’t want to fuck him like this. He had to regain some strength. He didn’t fancy him losing his consciousness while being beaten and deflowered. He grinned and left the room.

If anyone would ever find out what they were doing to each other or more what he was doing to his little brother, he would be taken into an asylum; probably the basement. Or somebody would just kill him.

He giggled menacingly. No one had the power to take him into custody. And Sherlock knew nothing else. He had taught him everything he needed to know and had him under control for years now. He had no idea there was something else.

He loved him. He never wanted to lose him. If he should ever try to leave, he would kill him.

***

Sherlock fell asleep really soon. He was terribly exhausted.

He dreamed of running over a field with flowers. The wind blew through his hair and the sun was shining brightly. He laughed. He heard someone calling his name. Someone who wasn't Mycroft. He felt happy and started to run faster. But suddenly the sun darkened, the wind blew and thunder was heard. Then Mycroft was in front of him and struck him down. The other voice was far away now and Sherlock begged Mycroft to let him go. He didn't want to return with Mycroft into his state of sexual slavery. Even though he partly enjoyed it, he never recovered from some exercises. He had scars. He showed Pavlovian responses when certain noises or gestures were made. He was scared easily and was afraid in the dark.

Somehow deep down below he knew all these things weren't right. But Mycroft was good to him, wasn't he? He had let him study what he wanted for how long he wanted. He only had to bring home some friends from time to time.

Mycroft loved him, cared for him. He also whipped him, hit him, and fucked him with all things possible. He punished him when he behaved badly. He rewarded him when he behaved. When he was a teenager he once had too much to drink and pissed into his denims inside the hall. Mycroft had been furious and had forced him into a diaper and handcuffs. He excused him at school and made him stay at home. There he made him wear diapers and cuffs for a whole week. He let him drink litres of water and even gave him a laxative to shit himself properly. Sherlock had been humiliated to no end, but he had also learnt his lesson.

Only once he came back home late. He had been out in a pub enjoying his time with some friends and forgot about the time. When he came home Mycroft was already waiting for him. He wouldn't let him use the loo; he made him beg for it like a child. Of course he hadn't made it in time. He had pressed him down and made him lick it up. Back then he had to wear a catheter and urine bag for a week and Mycroft had sent him to school with it. Sometimes he let him empty it into a glass and made him drink his own piss. He never was late again.

Sherlock woke up sweating. He was scared again; Mycroft had closed the door and left no light on. He rolled on his side and hid under the duvet. He knew he would deflower him. He made him beg for it and now he knew what was coming up. He had watched Mycroft fuck the boys and men he had brought home. He was kneeling close to it watching everything. His arms and hands had been tied behind his back and his eyes were forced open by tape. He also had been gagged. His cock was bound tight and a plug stuck in his arse. He didn't enjoy it at all. He had learnt very early to obey Mycroft. He had never tried to run away. Not once.

He did these things to him when he was late. What would he do to him when he tried to leave? And where should he go anyway? This was his life, this was his home, and this was his family. He couldn't fall asleep anymore and just waited for his brother to return and fuck him.


	2. Branding

He came back about two hours later. He smelled like expensive malt. Sherlock didn't like it but of course he wouldn't say so. Mycroft had been drinking too much. In his state, he pulled Sherlock out of his bed and shoved him into the library in front of the fire-place.

Sherlock was naked and knelt in front of Mycroft. He was cold and he was frightened.

“Show me your respect, little brother!” Sherlock was still a bit dizzy after having been dragged here but he started to suck him at once. He hollowed his cheeks and bopped his head. At once Mycroft clawed his hands into his hair and pulled hard. Sherlock did his best but wasn't able to please him. He licked, sucked, bopped, he did everything he had been taught, but it wasn't enough.

“What's wrong with you, Sherlock?” Mycroft shouted and hit him in the face after pulling him off. He fell onto the hardwood floor and looked up.

“I am sorry, Sir ...” He knew he had no chance to please him properly. He was too drunk; he wasn’t even able to get an erection.

“You better be!” Mycroft kicked his thighs and Sherlock suppressed a scream. He tried to cover his head.

“No, take your hands down and place them on your knees!” He got up and did as being told. He sobbed only once. Mycroft brutally tied his wrists on his lower back. Then he shoved a huge gag into his mouth and buckled it tight. Sherlock’s lips were stretched wide around it and it hurt badly. The corners of his mouth tore apart and his eyes watered.

He knelt in front of the fire with his head bowed. Then he heard Mycroft move the fire-wood. Something scratched over the stones in front of the fire-place. Sherlock turned his head and saw him heating up a metal rod. His eyes widened and he made desperate pleading noises shaking his head.

“I am going to mark you, Sherlock. I am going to mark you as mine and only mine. You are my property and now you will be wearing my sign. I will be branding you. You can't get away.” Sherlock tried to get up and away but was pushed down by Mycroft after a few steps. He fell down hard and groaned. Mycroft sat on his thighs and tied his ankles and knees. Then he hog-tied him and pulled him back to the fire-place.

When he was pleased with the state of the rod he placed his foot on Sherlock’s arse and pressed the iron down on his shoulder-blade. He screamed behind the gag and Mycroft kept pressing. He screamed for minutes and lost his consciousness.

***

Mycroft looked down on his little brother. He finally had branded him. He had dreamt about this for years. He threw the metal away and checked the wound. It smelled horrible. Sherlock was deadly pale and breathed only weakly. He didn't move a bit when he kicked him. He shrugged and left him behind. He had some more drinks and slept for a few hours on the settee by the fire.

Sherlock wasn't moving an inch. Had it been too much? He looked down. He can't lose him. He had to look after him. He didn't like the idea but he would need medical care. First thing after he had woken, he would have to tell him to behave.

Well, he would. There was no doubt about that. He would tell him what to tell the medics.

He untied him and threw him over his shoulder. He dressed him into sweat pants and nothing else. Then he called an ambulance and reported a burning accident. He bribed the ambulance personal with a thousand quid each and they just shoved Sherlock inside after having treated the wound. Mycroft followed right behind but was stopped in front of the A&E.

“You have to wait outside, Sir.” A short blond man in a white coat stood right in front of him.

“Excuse me? My brother has just been brought in. I need to know right away. Get out of my way.” He made a step forward but the man didn't step out of his way.

“No, Sir. You can wait right over there. This area is for patients. I will be right with you after the examination.” And he closed the door right into his face. Mycroft was taken aback. Nobody dared to shove him out of the way. But he can't make a scene here. There were too many people whom he didn't know. Yet. And Sherlock needed medical care. He would take care of the doctor later. He sat in the waiting area and made plans.

***

John examined the wound having the man turned on his front. He had been burnt deeply. He was still unconscious and his breathing was ragged and shallow. His fingers twitched and his lips moved. John moved his palm over his body and he relaxed a bit. His eyes roamed over the naked skin. He was still beautiful even though he had some older scars and fresh welts.

John had seen this before. He was dominant himself but he wasn't a sadist. This was insane and had nothing to do with sex or any healthy relationship. He carefully pulled apart his cheeks and checked his anus. No signs of brutal penetration but it was loosened up. He had been prepared and he had been marked as someone’s. It would happen soon. He needed to prevent it. It can't happen. This man had almost died. The edges of his mouth were torn; probably a gag being too big for him. He had rope burns around wrists and ankles. He also showed a huge contusion on his thigh. He probably had been kicked. It was coloured darkly.

He placed his palms on his bare skin and the man relaxed some more. Could he feel this? Did he like this? Did he need some tenderness instead of pain? He repeated his motions and he sort of purred and his head started to move. Slowly he opened his eyes and John watched him focus. It took him some seconds before the fear was back. He looked distressed and tried to get up. John pressed him down.

“No, Sir, please stay down. I need to clean your wound. I will numb the area. Please, don't move.”

“Sir is not here.” John was shocked. He had been made a slave. He had to be handled with care.

“Sir is waiting outside for you to get better. I am Dr John Watson. I am your doctor. Would you please tell me what happened?” He wouldn't look at him, wasn't probably allowed to.

“He marked me as his. You are not to touch me or even look at me. He will be upset and angry. Please, do what you must and let me go.” John shook his head.

“No, you will stay here for some days. You need to be taken care of. You need to rest. You are hurt very badly. The wound is going to be infected if not treated correctly. You also look in desperate need of something to eat.”

“I had a bowl of cum earlier today.” John just stared at him and couldn't believe what he just heard.

“So I see.” He shook his head and injected the anaesthetics. The man relaxed after some minutes and let him clean the wound. He groaned only a bit but held still. He must be used to pain to some extent. He made him lie down on his front again and stroked over his back and hair. He let his hand rest on his body and used his other on the tablet. The patient's data had just been entered.

“Sherlock Holmes, between jobs, living with his brother, not married, no children, higher than average IQ. Don't mess with brother?” His eyebrows crept up. He couldn't possibly let this guy go back. It knocked on the door.

“Doctor Watson? It's Anne. Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” She hurried in and closed the door behind her.

“His brother is creating something horrible outside right now, I can see it. You have to let him see his brother.”

“You know these people?” She nodded and sadly looked at Sherlock.

“I went to school with him. His older brother Mycroft, who is waiting outside, is weird. I think he is mental. He is also unbelievable rich and powerful. Don't interfere, no matter what, if you want to keep your job and life.” John just stared at her.

“You can't be serious, Anne. Just look at him, look at the branding!”

“Forget it or suffer the consequences.” Then she let Mycroft in.

“Thank you, Anne. This is very generous of you. I will see to everything.” He smiled very dangerously at her and she hurried away not looking back. John held his chin up high and widened his stance.

“So, Dr Watson, was it? How is my dear brother who hurt himself during an experiment?”

“He is alive. What kind of experiment was it, if I may ask?”

“It was an experiment about property and behaviour.” John swallowed. He simply told him the truth. What did that mean? Maybe he should give in and try another way to safe him. He relaxed his whole body and thinly smiled at him.

“Well then, I understand.” He just nodded and turned his back on him. Mycroft was surprised. He had sensed something. John rummaged in his desk and got out some medics. He placed them in front of Mycroft on the table.

“He will need three pills a day. Make sure he drinks enough and eats properly. The wound has to be cleaned twice a day. Do you need any assistance?” Mycroft was pleased.

“I thought of hiring your Anne. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“No, of course not, Mr Holmes. I will be on vacation anyway.” He shrugged. Mycroft thought about this information for just a second.

“Does that mean you are available? I would pay a generous amount of money for your services, Dr Watson.” And he would have him under surveillance.

“I don’t know if this interferes with my contract.” Mycroft just shook his head.

“I will take care of that. Don’t worry. When could you come over?”

“This is my last day of work.”

“Perfect. Then be at my estate at 8 pm. We will have dinner and I will explain everything to you. I am sure you are the perfect person for the job.” He very dangerously smiled and John had a lot to do to not freeze.

“Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it. Money is always helpful.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He turned around and looked at Sherlock who was still dozing off.

“How long will this last?”

“I would like him to recover and sleep for some hours. Can I call you when he is awake again?” Mycroft wanted to establish some trust and said:

“Well, it’s not worth the ride several times. Why don’t you keep him here under your watch and bring him back yourself tonight?”

“Agreed. Don’t worry, Mr Holmes, I will be taking care of your brother. He won’t be harmed by anyone.” The else was implied and Mycroft got it just right.

***

Sherlock was frightened. He had no idea who this man, this doctor, was who had been touching him. It had felt nice though. Sir was not in this room and he relaxed a bit. Would this man protect him from Sir? He had taken care of him, had not hurt him.

He dozed off again feeling his hand on his body. He wasn’t afraid anymore and the throbbing pain had stopped. He pretended to be asleep when his brother entered the examination room. He heard what Doctor John was offered and he heard him agree. He felt relieved, even happy. Had he been the man on the field who called his name? This was such a nice dream. Because it simply must be a dream. It couldn't be the truth.

Mycroft had just asked him to take care of him and bring him back this evening. He knew Doctor John had no choice but to do as being told. But it was a chance to change things as they were. He felt better and fell asleep for real.

When he woke up for the second time, he was in a bed and dressed in an ugly hospital gown. He desperately needed to go to the loo but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. He saw the open door into the bathroom and slowly got up. No one stopped him. It felt weird not asking for permission. He felt brave and walked over. After he was done, he watched his face in the mirror.

What was he looking at? Property of Sir. Nothing else. Not worth to be driving back and forth. Marked. Branded. Hurt. Fucked by plastic items. Humiliated. His lips started to tremble and he cried. He didn’t hear the door to his room open and John enter.

“Mr Holmes? Are you alright?” He called out for him and his head came up. He sobbed once more. He wouldn’t look at him and shuffled straight back to the bed. John saw the tears on his face and felt sad. He felt for him.

“What happened? Why are you crying?”

“I am nothing. I am no one. I am just an object to please Sir.” Very quietly spoken. John was close to tears, too, but managed.

“No, that's not true. You can change that. I will help you. You have even made the first step. You’ve been up, that’s good. I want to tell you about your medics and treatment.”

“Sir will take care of me.”

“No, I will take care of you. I will be your company for the next weeks. Your brother hired me.” Sherlock looked bewildered.

“You will be living with us?” John nodded. Sherlock looked terrified. He knew what had happened to all the men who had come into his home before. And he hadn't dreamed that his brother had offered him money for looking after him. It had been happening and the doctor had agreed.

“Sort of, Mr Holmes. I want to be sure your wound heals completely. It is dangerous and it might lead to an infection. We can’t let this happen; it could be leading to death.” Sherlock didn’t know what to say. Instead, he looked at the doctor. He seemed to be nice. The doctor returned his gaze and he lowered his.

“Please, don’t tell Sir.”

“Don’t tell him what?” John quietly asked him and tried to catch his eyes again.

“Please, don’t tell Sir I looked at you. I am not allowed to. Please?”

“I won’t tell him anything. Don’t worry. Unless you ask me, I won’t do anything. You can ask me for anything you want. Did you understand that?” He nodded and wondered about the implied meaning.

Then Sherlock smelled food and heard plates clatter. At once he got off the bed and dropped on his knees. His arms hung low and his eyes were on the ground. John had moved back a bit.

“What are you doing?”

“Dinner will be served soon.”

“You are not at home; you are in hospital, Mr Holmes. Please, get up.” Sherlock didn’t move and John took over. He stood very close to him and had his fists on his hips. His feet were wide apart.

“Get up!” This was parade ground sound. It made Sherlock flinch.

“I am not allowed. I don’t know what to do. Please, I …” He started to sway and sob. John bent down and took his hand.

“Get up, please? I am in charge here. Dinner will be served at the table. Sit down over there. Go!” He spoke quietly and pulled him up. He made him sit. He saw him sweat. Anne came back in with a tray of food. Since Mycroft had arranged for it, it was only the best. Sherlock looked surprised and murmured something about birthdays. Then he dug into it with his fingers. Anne just left and John took his wrist.

“Don’t!” Sherlock stopped and twitched. His shoulders hunched.

“Use the fork and knife.”

“I am not allowed.”

“I tell you to. You are with me now. You are not at home. Do as I say!” He looked at his dirty fingers and John gave him a napkin. He took it with shaking hands and wiped his hands clean. Then he carefully started to eat. Of course, he was able to do so, but he also knew when he wasn’t at university or a restaurant with his brother, he wasn’t allowed to use them. John sat down beside him and started to talk.

“Listen, Sherlock. May I call you Sherlock? OK, I know you must be confused. I know you are hurt and in pain. You must be desperate. I want to help you. Will you let me?”

“I am confused. I don’t know what to think. Sir is not here. You are here.”

“As long as Sir is not here, you will follow my orders. Agreed?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My name is John, Sherlock.”

“Yes, Sir John.” Now he had to smile. He looked at his plate. It was empty.

“Are you still hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Just tell me, you know?”

“Yes, I am still hungry.”

“Thank you, Sherlock, for trusting me and letting me in.” Sherlock shyly smiled but wouldn’t look up. That was a good enough sign for John. He inwardly sighed. Then he grabbed his plate and went out to get some more. When he returned, he found Sherlock pressed against the wall looking terribly frightened.

“What is it, Sherlock? What happened?”

“You, you left, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.” He was panting. John felt horrible. This man was a mess. He needed orders or his life became unbalanced. He was so scared to do something wrong. His punishments clearly showed on him.

“Sherlock, everything is just fine. I just went to get you more food. Would you like it?” He nodded.

“Then come over here and sit down again.” Slowly Sherlock came back. John placed the plate in front of him. He carefully took the fork and started to eat. After having finished he yawned and quickly covered his mouth.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to rest?”

“You promised Sir to take me back to him. Sir will be angry if you don’t.”

“I am sure I can tell Sir you have to stay in hospital for another night because of your health. I am also sure Sir wants you back in one piece.”

“You might not like the results of your doing.”

“Sir John isn’t afraid of Sir. In fact, he wants to help you, Sherlock.” John inwardly shook his head. He had started to talk about himself in third-person.

“Would you like to talk to me?”

“I am not allowed to talk to anyone except Sir.”

“Is Sir here right now to give orders?”

“No.”

“That means I am in charge. He let me take over for the time being. I want to help, Sherlock. Just talk to me if you feel like it.” He slowly nodded.

“May I go to bed now?” John nodded.

“Sure, Sherlock. Do you need anything?” He shook his head.

“No, Sir John.” His eyes followed John to the door. When John opened it to leave, he quietly asked:

“Where are you going?”

“Do you need me to stay?”

“Yes, please. I am not at home. I am not with Sir. I …”

“It’s fine, Sherlock. Wait for five minutes. I will go and get another bed. I will stay with you.” They locked their eyes for the first time.

“Oh God, he wants to leave me alone. I can handle five minutes, sure I can do that. Oh God, please hurry, Sir John.” But he didn’t speak loud, he just clutched the duvet. John saw him being desperate and hurried along. He talked to Anne first and then fished the tablet out of his coat to retrieve the contact of Mycroft Holmes. Then he called him.

“Mr Holmes, this is Dr Watson speaking. I am sorry to disturb you, but Sherlock has a high temperature and we probably have to put him into an artificial coma. We have to keep him here for some more time. I am sorry I have to tell you. I will take over now and stay with him all the time. I just wanted to inform you and ask if this is in your interest?” He could hear him breathing.

“Yes, Dr Watson, I want to have him back full strength. Is there anything I can do? Special medics, money, whatever?”

“No, Mr Holmes, I just don’t know what he is used to. What does he need to fall asleep? Are there any special rules? I know that you know what I am talking about.” Mycroft chuckled darkly.

“I recognize a related soul, Dr Watson. He is used to severe punishments. I normally give him an enema and let him always ask if he could use the loo. If you want to be very nice, you could give him some pleasure. I could send over some of his favourite toys, if you like?” John closed his eyes but he needed to play the game.

“That would be great. He was a bit shaken before he went under. When I will wake him up again, I will show him that nothing is going to change.”

“That sounds good. I will return to London for several days tomorrow. I leave my beloved brother with you, Dr Watson. If you are ready to bring him home call my number and I will arrange transport. We will be having our dinner then.”

“Very well, Mr Holmes. Thanks again for the job.”

“You are welcome.” They ended the call while John pushed the second bed over the aisle and back into Sherlock’s room. He was sitting in his bed biting his knuckles.

“See? I am back. I will stay with you. Don't worry.” Sherlock watched him push the bed against the wall beside his own. He had also brought sweat pants and a t-shirt. He always had some clothes here and a wash-bag. You never know, don't you?

John closed the door and walked into the bathroom to change. Sherlock didn't move or talk. John climbed onto his bed and sat cross-legged facing Sherlock. He met huge eyes looking at him. John smiled and tilted his head.

“How do you feel, Sherlock?”

“I still feel dizzy. I am confused. I am feeling the change. Everything became different.”

“Do you miss anything?”

“No, Sir John.” That was a sign. He had been conditioned to a lot. But obviously he felt something wasn't right. He must have doubts. That was something John could work with.

“It is just John, Sherlock, or Dr Watson, if you prefer. I would prefer John.”

“I must show respect, Sir John.”

“Respect is nothing bad, Sherlock, if it is earned.”

“I don't understand. I have a headache. My shoulder hurts again.”

“I will change your bandage before you go to bed. I will also give you a pill for the pain in your shoulder. Afterwards, you should be able to sleep. Could you please take off the gown?” Slowly Sherlock pulled it off his shoulders and put it in front of him. But he didn't dare cover his body.

“Please, turn around and lie on your front.” He did that, too. John walked over and pulled up the duvet over his bruised behind. His arms moved up and his hands went over his nape. John pulled them away.

“No, Sherlock. I want you to relax. Put your arms beside your body. I am right here and everything is just fine.” He stroked over his head and felt him relax again. He closed his eyes.

John removed the bandage and looked at the nasty wound. He cleaned it again.

“It looks fine, it's not infected.” Sherlock slowly sat up again and took the pill and the glass of water from John.

“Thank you, Sir John.” John tilted his head.

“What do I have to do to make you call me by my given name?” Sherlock slumped and replied.

“You have to order me. You have to make me. If it doesn't work, you have to punish me.”

“No. I won't order you around. I won't make you do things you don't want. And I won't punish you. In fact, I am begging you to call me by my given name.”

“But it's not right ...” Sherlock sounded desperate.

“Says who?” He didn't reply.

“See?” John smiled and tried again.

“Please, Sherlock?” Sherlock swallowed. He had just heard _Please_ in a way he never heard it before. Mycroft sometimes used it with him in a sarcastic manner. He looked at John and opened his mouth. He really tried and finally he made it.

“Jjjj …” He swallowed.

“John ...” The sound made John's cock twitch with arousal. He closed his eyes and willed it to go away. Instead, he broadly smiled.

“Thank you. This means a lot to me.” Sherlock smiled, too. It looked both shy and coy.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” John nodded.

“Yes, I will. Don't worry. I won't leave you. I promise.” Sherlock rolled on his side and rested his head on one arm facing John. Soon his eyes drooped and only when he was asleep, John pulled the duvet up and shut off the light except the emergency bulbs.

John fell asleep really soon, he was exhausted. Talking to Sherlock and handling him had been intense. But he saw progress. He liked him and he wanted to take him away from his brother. Yet, he had no idea how he could manage this, but he knew he had to try.

***

When he woke up, poor Sherlock was completely confused. Only the emergency lights were on and everything felt wrong. Then he remembered. Mycroft had branded him and he was in the hospital with Dr John, Sir John, only John. He savoured the name and looked to his side. There he was, sleeping on the other bed. Sherlock was used to sleep only for a few hours, so he could be of service soon again. He was rested now and he started to think about everything.

He thought of the field he saw himself running over and he smelled the wildflowers. John had given him something new. He felt good with him being around. He trusted him. But he also feared for him. Mycroft would hurt him if he ever found out he helped him or encouraged him to behave improperly.

He was outside alone being treated like a man. He hadn’t been punished, hit or beaten because he had looked at him or had spoken unless being told.

This was new and he was frightened. Could John protect him? He had told him he could tell and ask him for anything. Should he try and tell him about the other men? He had been nice to him. He must warn him. His brain felt dizzy and his mind was fuzzy. His thoughts went wild inside his head and he didn’t realise for some time that John’s eyes were wide open. He had been looking at him, too.

By instinct Sherlock lowered his gaze and winced. John sat up in his bed.

“Hush, Sherlock, don’t be afraid. It’s OK to look. It’s perfectly fine.”

“Really?” He whispered and John nodded noting his reply. This was an improvement of some sorts.

“Yes, absolutely. I felt you looking and I was wondering if everything is alright?” Sherlock unconsciously licked over his bottom lip. John had to swallow.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Really?” Sherlock nodded seriously.

“Yes, I am wondering if you could help me. There are only two possibilities. The first one is to ignore my plea and take me back to Sir. No danger for you. The second one is to help me, risk everything and run away with me.” John had to smile.

“No more options?”

“Kill yourself before falling into his hands.” Now John stopped smiling.

“What happened before, Sherlock? What kind of experiences do you have?” And he told him about the basement. John was shell-shocked.

“Jesus, Sherlock! I thought he was a sick sadist but he is much more than that. How long has this been going on?” Sherlock shrugged sitting up on the bed now.

“As long as I can think. He started small. He never fucked me though. He had planned it for this weekend but he got drunk and branded me instead.”

“Listen, you probably might have noticed by experience that I am not new to this. I could sense it in Mycroft. But I never did such things. I had relationships, men and women who were subbing for me. But you aren’t subbing. You are in an incestuous and abusive relationship I would call sexual slavery. Don’t you want to end it?”

“Otherwise I wouldn’t have talked to you. I don't want to die. I don't want you to die.”

“I really want to help. When I saw you being brought in, it hurt my heart and soul. I like you very much and I need you to trust me no matter what. Can you do that?” He looked at him and they locked eyes again. Finally, he slowly nodded.

“Yes, I can do that. I feel things. I like you, like I have seen you in my dreams.”

“I would like to touch you again but I won’t do it without your permission.” Sherlock reacted as he had been taught.

“I have no say in it. Sir let you take over. Sir can touch me whenever he wants or make me touch him. You are Sir.” He got up and dropped on his knees in front of John with his head bowed.

“Who am I?” Sherlock was confused again. This was Sir. This was John, too. It was Sir John, wasn’t it? He tightly closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. He roughly whispered.

“I don’t know …” He quietly sobbed burying his face in his hands. John got off the bed and knelt opposite him.

“Sherlock, please look at me.” He shook his head.

“Look at me!” He carefully did and saw John very close. He saw John’s hands moving up to him and stroking over his arms. He sank back on his heels and sighed closing his eyes.

“Do you like it?” He nodded slowly.

“I am not supposed to be touched by others than Sir. But yes, I like it.”

“That’s good because I like to touch you. I would like you to touch back.” The only way Sherlock knew was to give head. He bent down and tried to pull down John’s waistband. But he stopped him.

“Wait, Sherlock, no, stop it!” Now he looked hurt.

“You wanted me to touch you! I wanted to touch you …” He desperately wrung his hands while admitting his wants, his wish.

“Touch me like I touched you before.”

“I don’t know …” John reached out for him again and used his fingertips to trace his cheekbones and jawline.

“Just copy what I do.” Sherlock did and carefully moved his fingers over John’s skin. John closed his eyes and purred. He was tingling. Suddenly Sherlock moved his fingers through his hair and John bowed his head. He used both of his hands and moved his fingers over his scalp. John moaned.

“Sherlock …” He let go at once and John looked up desperately wanting more. He pulled Sherlock close and brushed his lips with his. He opened his mouth at once and John started to lick over his lips and sucked them.

Sherlock was more confused than ever. This had never happened to him. Sir had never touched or kissed him like this. He never experienced something like this. He was shaking and clutched at John's tee. This was nice. It didn't hurt. It made him feel good.

John let go of him and smiled. Sherlock smiled, too.

“Now you try it, Sherlock. Kiss me, please?” John closed his eyes and his lips were slightly apart. Sherlock stared at him and dared. His lips touched John's and electricity pulsed through him. Both of them moaned and Sherlock’s grip tightened around John's biceps. It felt hard under Sherlock’s touch and he let his feelings take over. John was being snogged like never before. He let him do as he liked and didn't direct or ask for anything.

Suddenly Sherlock pulled back shocked. He laid his hand over his mouth. He shivered. John felt like being in heaven. His voice was rough when he said:

“I will run away with you until we reach the end of the world.” Right then Sherlock’s big brain took over.

“There is no end of the world. You are a doctor, you should know.” John laughed and ruffled his hair.

“Are you coming with me?”

“Yes, I want to stay with Si ….” He stopped and tried again.

“I want to be with you. If anyone ever touches me again, it will be you, only you.”

“Thank you for your trust, Sherlock. I won't disappoint you. But at first, your wound has to heal completely. In the meantime, I will take care of everything.”

***

After the night’s talk, both of them had slept in their own beds. Sherlock was rather relaxed now and John was simply exhausted. He had fallen in love with Sherlock. He had never believed it would happen to him, love at first sight. 

He sat on the edge of his bed with his legs dangling after he had woken up. He watched the sleeping beauty. Today he would tape off the wound and let him shower and wash his hair.

He got up and carefully touched him.

“Sherlock? Love? It’s me, wake up, please?” His eyes fluttered open and soon focused on John. A smile shone on his face and John’s heart warmed.

“John …” Slowly he sat up.

“Listen, Sherlock. I need to get fresh clothes; both for me and for you. But I didn’t want to leave and let you wake up with me being gone. I want to ask you to remain in your room and wait for me. Could you do that for me?” He nodded.

“Yes, John.” His eyes wandered over his shoulder to the bath.

“If you need to go, you go.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Listen, your brother told me he would send your favourite toys over. I didn’t want him to become suspicious, that’s why I agreed. So please don’t get afraid if Anne delivers the box.”

“I understand.”

“I know you do.”

“Will this Anne woman bring more to eat?” He quietly asked still feeling self-conscious.

“Are you hungry already?” John wondered how often he was fed. By the look of him, it wasn’t too often.

“She will bring breakfast, lunch and dinner. Normally there is tea-time too, meaning you will get a piece of cake. Do you want me to bring in something for you?” Sherlock remembered the one time he had pizza in a restaurant.

“Could we have a pizza later?” John smiled.

“Of course we can. Any special wishes for the topping?”

“I remember I had double-cheese, mushrooms, tomatoes and onions.”

“OK, I will bring it along. You shall have it.”

“Thank you!” His face lit up and John brightly smiled back. When he left the room, Sherlock’s eyes followed him. John waved good-bye and he unconsciously returned the gesture.

He would hurry but stopped at the nurses’ room to ask someone to look into their room to see if he was doing fine. He also asked them to bring him some biscuits and sweets. He was convinced he would like it.

At home, he packed his duffle. He took his gun out of the drawer not even thinking about it. It was better to be armed. He would need it sooner or later because of the plans he had with and for Sherlock Holmes.

He had a shower and left his flat again. He shortly stopped at the local Tesco to buy some nosh for later. He returned to the hospital and found the box Mycroft had sent. He opened it and found sets for enemas, cock-rings, ball-gags, ropes, blindfolds, a riding crop and several plugs. These had been in a smaller box which sat on some of Sherlock’s clothes. He had sent two pairs of jeans, trainers, some tees. There was no underwear. He closed the toy-box.

He entered their room and found him sitting on the floor in front of a TV. The nurses must like him. He was completely fixated on the screen and didn’t hear him come in. He placed the box on the bed and watched him watch some cartoon. He laughed quietly and looked very young.

John stepped up and carefully brought himself into focus.

“Sherlock?” Slowly he turned his head and looked up. His eyes shone and he smiled. No fear.

“John!” Pure joy. John's heart missed some beats when he saw that.

“Where did the TV come from? I should have thought of it myself, you know?”

“One of the nurses brought it from another room. They are all very nice to me. I feel less confused.”

“That sounds good.” Sherlock still sat on the floor looking up at him and finally John realised their position. He went down and sat on his heels.

“Your brother has sent your toy-box and some clothes. He didn't send underwear, boxers or such.”

“I am not supposed to wear them.” Sherlock shook his head.

“I had a look into your toy-box.” He looked at him and Sherlock looked on the ground.

“Yes?” John swallowed.

“I don't know how to put it, but is there anything you partly enjoyed? I mean, I know you like kissing and groping. But there is more. I already told you I am a dominant person, but I would never hurt you like your brother did. I like to play though.” He shook his head. This was hard. This was complicated. He tried to catch Sherlock’s eyes but he wouldn't look at him.

“Sometimes it feels good. When I am not completely tied up or tightly gagged. When he touches me inside, then it feels good. But it's not supposed to be nice for me. I am not supposed to touch myself. Ever. When I once did ...” He shuddered and closed his eyes.

“What happened when you once did?”

“He tortured me by over-stimulation. He had tied me into a fucking machine and made me orgasm again and again. At first, it had felt good but the more I came, the more it hurt. I cramped. Finally, there was nothing left but it felt like coming. It hurt so much.” John took his hand and simply held it.

“Go on, Sherlock, tell me.” Sherlock sighed. His eyes were still closed but his fingers were wound tightly around John's hand.

“When it was finally over, he bent me over a saw-horse and shoved a ginger plug inside my back. Everything was sore anyway. He applied tiger balm on my cock and stuck it into a harness. He put a spider-gag on me and came into my mouth and onto my face. Then he left for hours.”

“Oh God ...” John shook his head and cried. Sherlock was terrified by the sight.

“Why do you cry? It was being done to me.” John sobbed.

“That's why. It's just sick. It's medieval torture.”

“I was told it was education. He just taught behaviour.”

“He made you a slave. He robbed you of your life.”

“It's the only life I know.” John slowly exhaled and changed the topic.

“Anne told me you went to school with her.”

“I don't know. I don't remember her.”

“What did you do after school?”

“I studied.”

“What did you study?”

“Everything I wanted, I studied chemistry, literature, some languages, biology, a bit of this and a bit of that. My brother let me do it as long as I wanted.” John thought of the use of the word _brother_ instead of _Sir_. Progress.

“That sounds interesting.”

“It was. I had a good time at university. Except …” He shuddered.

“Except what?” He looked at him.

“Except for the two times, I pissed myself when being drunk and when I was late.” He told John about his punishments and he had to close his eyes. This was too much. He hated this man so much.

“That’s over now. I will protect you with my life.”

“How will you accomplish that? My brother is a very powerful man; he is also very rich. He works for the British government, in fact he is the government.”

“I will find a way. Believe me, I will.”

“I do believe you, you know? I do.” Then Sherlock looked around and sniffed. Then his face went slack and his eyes looked disappointed on the wall beside John. John wondered what had triggered that.

“Sherlock? What's wrong?” Sherlock wrung his hands and wouldn't look at John.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, no, you didn't. Why do you think that?” He still wouldn't look up. John was clueless.

“Sherlock, please talk to me. What's wrong? I know there is something.” Sherlock bit his lip and then very quietly whispered:

“You promised to bring pizza ...” He only whispered. John wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“Jesus, Sherlock, you scared me. I am so sorry. I thought it was a bit early for dinner. But if you like to have it now, I will order it right away.” Sherlock looked up.

“You didn't forget then?” John palmed his face and shook his head.

“No, I didn't. I promised and I do keep my promises.” Sherlock shyly smiled and John got up. He took his mobile out of his pocket and called the local pizza dealer.

Later they sat on Sherlock’s bed and two pizza boxes sat between them. Sherlock devoured the whole thing. John made half of his and then just watched him eat.

“How long haven't you been eating properly?” He shrugged.

“Months. Years. The meals Anne brought weren't enough. This is good, I like it.”

“Are you feeling well?” He looked up at John.

“Yes, I do. I feel good with you, John. I want to be with you. Only you. I want to leave here.”

“Me, too.” He thought for a second and then decided to tell him.

“Your brother told me he was going to London. Meaning, he left the place of his here. I suppose you won't like to go back there.” He wildly shook his head.

“No, please ...” He shuddered.

“We won't then. Do you want to come to my place?”

“Yes. But how could you be sure no one would tell him? Anne? Other people?”

“We can't. That's why I will tell him. I will tell him that you are in my flat. He thinks I will treat you properly. He knows about me. But the main thing is, will you trust me?”

“I did from the first moment, John. I will do whatever you suggest.”

“No, no, no. You need to feel good, safe. You need to tell me more about your brother. His positions, his work.”

“I know a lot. He never thought of hiding things from me. He thinks, he controls me which he did. Does.” Sherlock swallowed.

“OK, we will be staying for the night. Tomorrow we will be leaving for my place.”

“I am so tired, John, so tired.” Sherlock yawned and crawled under the duvet. John sat by his side and let him hold his hand. Finally, his grip loosened and he fell asleep.

John sighed heavily and undressed. He used the bathroom and showered a second time today. But he had been sweating while interacting with Sherlock. Afterwards, he climbed into his bed and watched the sleeping man. He moved closer and placed his hand on his hip. Then he fell asleep, too.


	3. John's Home

The next morning John woke up due to a strange feeling. His eyes were still closed when he tried to wake up. He felt completely relaxed but he could sense Sherlock close by. Then he realised his fingers were moving over his biceps. It felt good, very good. His lips curved up.

“You are awake, John.”

“Yes, I am. Don't stop doing what you are doing.”

“I didn't mean to disturb you. I am sorry.”

“I said don't stop, please.” Hesitantly his fingers started to move over his arm again. John really enjoyed this. God, how he loved this man. He felt his prick harden and his eyes opened. He licked his lips. Sherlock's eyes followed his fingers. John enjoyed for a few more minutes until he sat up in bed. Then he watched Sherlock sniff his fingers and hands. He looked at him and John tilted his head.

“You smell nice.” A serious statement and John had to prevent a laughing fit. Sherlock wouldn't understand and probably be sad about it.

“Why did you do that?” John rested his head on his elbow and watched him.

“Didn't you like it? Did I do it wrong? I am sorry, John, I just needed ...”

“It's perfectly alright, Sherlock. What you did was great and I liked it a lot. Nothing you did was wrong.”

“I felt the urgent need to explore, to touch, to feel you. I never could do such a thing.” John smiled and Sherlock felt as if the sun came up before him.

“I want to take you home, Sherlock. And then I want to make love to you.” With these words, John jumped out of his bed, placed a kiss on Sherlock's lips and vanished into the bathroom.

Sherlock was stunned. He turned his head and looked after him. Slowly and carefully his fingertips touched his own lips. Then he smiled. Whatever the words meant John just had said, the word _love_ he had heard before.

***

John watched him getting dressed. He handed over his duffle and carried the toy-box himself. Then they left. The nurses laughed and waved good-bye. He shyly smiled back at them and waved, too. John had spoken to Anne while Sherlock was showering.  
She was happy but also a bit scared. He just told her he would take him in and that was something she could tell his brother when he was asking. She knew no more and didn't want to.

John drove home and Sherlock sat on the passenger seat looking around. He had never rode on the passenger seat. He had always been in the back with Mycroft, sometimes tied up and sometimes he was riding in the trunk. Just for the fun of Mycroft, of course.

And he had never been around much. He only had been to school and university. Very rarely Mycroft had taken him into a restaurant, mainly when it was his birthday or Christmas. Out of wondrous eyes, he scanned his surroundings. His lips stood slightly open and he felt excited. This was life.

Finally, they reached their destination. John parked the car in front of the building and they grabbed their stuff. John opened the door and held it open for Sherlock. They rode the elevator upstairs to the fourth floor where John unlocked the door to his flat.

“Please, come in. Welcome to my place!” Sherlock entered and dropped the duffle. At once he toed off his trainers and walked inside. He turned around once and looked at the things. It was a warm and comfy place. Very small to what he was used to but it felt good. He simply smiled.

“I like it, John. It's nice.”

“I'll show you everything. We can sit outside, too. I have a balcony, see?” He opened the door and Sherlock became really excited. Then he was shown the bathroom and the bedroom and the kitchen. Everything was very neat and clean. Sherlock didn't know what to do now and John just made him sit on the sofa. Then the doorbell rang and Sherlock jerked. He broke out in a sweat and desperately looked at John.

“Don't worry, Sherlock. This will only be Laura, my neighbour, bringing Tom back.” He went to answer the door and Sherlock heard some whining and barking. He heard him laugh and a woman laughed, too. Then the door was closed and he heard John.

“Go and have a look, Tom. We are having a visitor.” Then something dark rushed inside the room and jumped him. It barked once and sat on his lap licking his face and placing his paws on his shoulders. He didn't even feel the pain from the wound when the dog jumped him because he was so surprised.

“A dog, you have a dog ...” Sherlock smiled and carefully touched it. The dog was panting and sniffed him.

“He likes you. Do you like him?” He looked up and smiled brightly. He nodded.

“Yes, I like him. I always wanted a dog. Or a cat. Or a mouse. Something. He denied me.” A single tear fell down his cheekbone.

“Oh, Sherlock. Now you have Tom, I share him with you.” Tom let go of him now and jumped on the floor sniffing the flat until he finally fell asleep in his basket. Sherlock rolled his shoulder and hissed. At once he bit his lips and suppressed the pain. John had heard him.

“Did Tom hurt you? Let me see.” Sherlock shook his head.

“It's nothing. He didn't hurt me.”

“Sherlock, please, come over here. Take off your jacket and shirt right away and show me.” He got up at once and walked over. The sound of John's voice had been different and triggered something. He needed to obey him.

“Yes, Sir.” John just sighed and gently touched and examined his shoulder. It wasn't bleeding though, it must have been the push.

“It looks good. Get dressed again, please.” His mobile dinged and he looked at it.

“Oh damn, I almost forgot about it.” Sherlock looked up.

“What is it?”

“I need to take Tom to the vet. Do you want to come along or rather stay here?” He slowly shook his head.

“Please, don't leave me alone. I come along wherever you go.”

“It's fine. I just go downstairs and grab the transport box for Tom. It's a rule at the vet's. The bigger dogs have to ride and wait in a box. It will only take a few. Please wait, OK?” Sherlock nodded and sat on the sofa with Tom in front of it on the floor.

John hurried into his basement and carried the box upstairs. While moving he folded out the wheels beneath it, so he could roll it over the aisle. He pushed open his door which he had left a bit ajar and called out.

“I am back, Sherlock.” He stepped into the living room and Sherlock screamed. He jumped off the sofa, stumbled over his own feet and fell down. His eyes were fixed on the box and he crawled backwards until he hit the wall. Tom stared at the shaking man and his ears were pressed against his head.

John kicked the box back a bit and closed the door to the living room so it was out of sight. He grabbed Sherlock's upper arms and shook him.

“Stop it!” Sherlock's hands were fisted into the carpet's fibres and he was panting. His eyes were wide open and unfocused. He kept murmuring.

“Not the cage. Please, I'll do anything you say, anything you want. But please, don't make me sit in the cage again. Please!” John knelt in front of Sherlock and wondered how on earth would this tall man fit into a cage the size of this transport box? Surely it must have been a bigger one and this one just triggered the memories? Very slowly Sherlock came down again. He was able to look at John now.

“We urgently need to talk, Sherlock. But first of all I have to take Tom to the vet. It's your decision. Either way, you come with us and have to stand being close to the transport box with Tom inside or you stay at home alone. What do you want?” His shaking hand came to rest on John's arm.

“I am coming with you. It will be Tom in the box and not me. It will be Tom. Not me.”

“That's right, love. Now get your shoes and jacket and come with me. When we are back home, we will be having dinner and talk about everything.” Sherlock shivered and nodded. He stared at John when he opened the box and Tom willingly moved inside.

Sherlock remembered himself after hours, days, inside the box. The pattern of the box had been pressed into his skin, had rubbed his skin sore and bloody. The stink of pee and shit had been extreme. His whole body was cramping after his brother had let him out. He had hurt for days on end.

It had been a punishment. Sherlock had never talked back to his brother again.

Now he followed John to his car. He rolled the box with Tom over the aisle and into the elevator. Tom didn't seem to mind at all to travel in it. Outside he heaved it on the back-seat of his car. Then he drove along. At once, Sherlock was looking around again, he was distracted rather quickly. It took them about half an hour until they arrived at the vet's.

“Do you want to wait in the car? Inside, there might be larger boxes. I am just warning you. Do you think you can manage?” Sherlock nodded feeling brave.

“I know I don't have to sit in the box. I can cope. I am coming.”

“Very good. Come on, then.” They entered the vet's and sat in the waiting room. Sherlock looked at Tom.

“What's wrong with him?”

“It's after-care. He had a car accident and broke his leg. It had been mended and healed rather well. Now it's going to be x-rayed again to check if everything has been healing fine.”

“Poor Tom. It must have hurt.” His shaking fingers were on the box and Tom licked his fingers.

“It sure did. But he is running around again as you have seen.” John rubbed over his back and Sherlock finally relaxed. John wondered what other things might trigger awful memories.

When Tom was called, he and Sherlock went inside. Tom jumped willingly on the table to be x-rayed. All of them were covered in protective gear. At the end the doctor came inside and showed them the picture on a screen. The doctor pointed at one leg.

“He broke his leg right here. You can still see the screws.” Sherlock had a closer look.

“It healed nicely. It looks almost perfect.” John looked surprised and so did the vet. Sherlock sensed something and looked at John. At once he blushed and looked on the floor taking some steps back. Now John looked at it more closely.

“No, you are absolutely right. Thank you, Dr Tate.” He nodded and they left soon after. John stopped at a park where he let Tom out and had him run around a bit. He sat Sherlock on a bench and got them a coffee. Sherlock took it but wouldn't look up at him.

“I am sorry, I stressed you so much on our first day at home, Sherlock.”

“It's not your fault. You couldn't know.”

“That's why we have to talk, do you understand?” Sherlock nodded and sipped his coffee. He looked at the person selling it and then at John.

“May I go and get some sugar?” John sighed but only inwards. Instead, he nodded.

“Yes, of course you can. Just go ahead. I didn't know you wanted sugar.”

“It's fine.” Sherlock straightened up and stood. Then he walked over to the little cart and was given two packs of sugar. The woman smiled at him and he smiled back. John was glad he managed. He wasn't used to that. He soon would have to practice things of daily life with him. Sherlock returned and had also thought of a wooden spoon. He leant back and closed his eyes sipping his coffee. John watched him bathing in the sun. Sherlock felt being watched and turned his head.

“I like this, you know? You are a good person, John. And even if it doesn't last long, I will never forget.”

“What are you talking about, Sherlock?”

“I have to return to my brother. I can't endanger you, John. Never.”

“No way you are going back to your Godforsaken brother! I will find a way! Believe me!” They looked at each other and Sherlock very much wanted to believe him.

***

They finished their coffee and John called Tom back. He came running and was given a biscuit by the woman selling the coffee. Tom looked at John and John nodded. Only then he took it. John thanked the woman and let Tom ride outside the box on their way home. He brought the box back into the basement first and then rummaged through the cupboards in his kitchen. He picked some menus from take-away places and asked Sherlock.

“What do you want?” Sherlock had no clue. He looked at the menus. It was Italian, Chinese, Indian, French and even Spanish. He shrugged.

“I don't know, I have never tried.” John felt sad for him. He ordered a range of tapas for them and opened a bottle of wine. He poured it into beautiful glasses and handed one over to Sherlock.

“Let's sit on the balcony.” They moved outside and Sherlock sniffed the wine. He very carefully sipped it and kept it inside his mouth with his eyes closed. Only then he swallowed. John watched him.

“It's wonderful.”

“I am glad you like it. I wondered what you might like.”

“I wonder, too, you know? I never was allowed alcohol again after the incidents when I was at university. He controlled my urine and my blood regularly.” John had to close his eyes. This man was such a monster.

“We will find out together.” Then the food was delivered and they had dinner on the balcony when the sunset. Tom joined them and got his share.

John watched Sherlock and was horny as hell. He wanted him so badly but he had no idea if this was too soon. Sherlock looked at John and sensed his feelings. He smiled at him.

“You want me. Now. You are aroused. I want you, too. Please have me, John?” John growled and pulled him inside where he kissed him languidly. Sherlock needed a minute until he was able to reciprocate but when he did, he made John moan.

Slowly John undressed him and looked him up and down. His eyes roamed over his body and soon his hands followed. Sherlock didn't know what to do and just stood there. Now John started to undress, too. Sherlock watched him, he hadn't seen too much of him until now. He was compact with a beautiful physique, many muscles, and had some scars, too. He even was a bit tanned. He was also perfectly trimmed and shaved as was Sherlock. His brother had taken care of that regularly.

Sherlock deeply inhaled and his voice was rough when he spoke.

“You smell so nice ...” He also looked at his arse, it was nicely shaped. And suddenly his cock twitched upwards. He looked down. It never had done such a thing without being stimulated. Now he got a hard-on on its own accord. He was excited. And scared at the same time because he didn't know if this was right, if this was expected or maybe rude? Impolite?

“You are so beautiful, Sherlock. I want you beneath me. I want to devour you, all of you.” John had stepped up close again and pulled him into his arms. Sherlock didn't reply, he just closed his eyes. John waited for a few minutes and when nothing came, he held him a bit apart.

“Sherlock?” He could feel him shiver.

“What's wrong?” Still nothing. John was worried now. Was it too much too soon? He didn't know. He worried his lips and picked up the blanket from the sofa. He slung it around Sherlock's thin frame and that made him look up.

“John? What are you doing?” John shrugged helplessly.

“I don't know what to do. I thought you were ready ...”

“I am. I just don't know what to do. I was always told how to behave, how to act, what to do. I don't know how to proceed, John. You have to tell me ...”

“Oh, Sherlock, I had no idea. Can't you just follow your needs? Just do what you want, it will be fine.” But Sherlock shook his head.

“That's too much ...” And he started to cry.

“I just wanted you to hold me and kiss me again ...”

“But if you don't do anything, it feels like rape ...” John was helpless.

“No, it's not. Because I willingly let you. Please, John, I don't know what to do.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Kiss me, please. Hold me close.” John held him and placed kisses all over his jaw.

“Touch me, please, like you did before.” Slowly his hands came up and he stroked over his arms. John moved him over to the bedroom. He deeply kissed him and made him sit on the bed. His long fingers were around his wrists and held his hands close to his head.

John broke the kiss and carded his fingers through his soft curls. Sherlock looked up and his pupils were dilated. His hands crept up John's thighs, moved tenderly over his behind and rested on his waist. He pulled him between his legs never losing eye contact.

“Please?” He roughly whispered. John had an idea what Sherlock asked for and he nodded. Sherlock lowered his head and licked a long stripe over his cock. John moaned. He blew over it and made him shiver. His fingers fisted into his curls. His body jerked when Sherlock sucked around his head and twirled his tongue around him. Soon he was panting.

Sherlock's head bopped up and down. John wasn't able to remember a blow-job like this one. This was bloody art. His fingers were fondling his testicles and his lips were pressed around his base. John threw his head back and groaned.

Sherlock pressed his tongue into the slit and hollowed his cheeks. John's prick touched his throat and Sherlock swallowed, took him even deeper. John widened his stance and threw his head back again. Sherlock worked him over and John looked down panting wildly. He met Sherlock's eyes who looked up at him.

Suddenly he moved down on his knees. He knelt upright in front of John and had his palms flat on his chest. He moved down from above, sucked, licked and swallowed. He teased his nipples and John made noises.

“Sherlock ...” John tried to warn him but he held him tight between his lips. One hand moved between his legs and caressed his testicles. And then John saw blinding white lights, lightning before his eyes, and he came strongly while Sherlock coaxed every single drop out.

After he was done, he swayed and fell sideways on his bed. His eyes were on Sherlock who returned the stare. He sat on his heels and his arms were just hanging down. He looked clueless.

“John? Are you hurt?” Slowly he moved closer and let his hands move over his back and head. John laughed.

“No, not at all. You are a fucking sex-God, Sherlock!”

“What? No!” But John nodded.

“Come here! Let me help you with this.” And he pulled him up and to his side. Sherlock still was hard and it was as if he ignored it completely.

“What are you doing?” John placed his palm flat on his belly.

“Just relax and enjoy.” Sherlock was a bit fuzzy right now and wasn't really able to focus. John pulled him up and against his chest. They knelt on the bed. Sherlock's head rested backwards on John's shoulder. His fingers clutched at John's thighs when John touched his prick.

Sherlock wasn't used to this. He wasn't supposed to enjoy. His job was done, wasn't it? His mind whirled wildly and he wasn't able to concentrate.

“Stop thinking, love. Just let go.” He fingered his prick and pressed two fingers on his lips. Sherlock opened his mouth and bathed them in his saliva. When John's fingers were slick and wet, he leant forward and Sherlock moved with him. John felt for his hole and moved his fingers over the muscle. Soon he pressed and pushed inside. He found his nub right away and pressed down. Sherlock screamed and fell forward. His hands fisted the sheets, his own hair, everything he could get a grip on. Finally, he was sobbing and hammered his fists onto the mattress.

John slowed down and extended everything. He wanted him to enjoy. Finally, his body came up again and carefully he started to fuck back. His hands moved back and went around John's neck. He tilted his head and kissed his temple and cheekbones and what he could reach.

Only when he heard his breath hitch and he hiccuped, John increased his speed and made him come violently.

Sherlock's arms fell down and his body slumped against John who lowered him on the bed. His eyes were closed and his breathing came raggedly. He was out cold. John felt his pulse but it was beating strongly. He carded through his hair and looked down. 

This had been intense and he smiled.

Sherlock started to move again and his eyes fluttered.

“John?” He mumbled.

“Yes?”

“You are a sex-God, too.”


	4. Future

John watched him fall asleep and pulled up the blanket. He placed it over Sherlock's naked body and his own. He pulled him close and spooned. Sherlock purred but didn't wake again. John deeply inhaled his scent. He found him completely relaxed and fell asleep, too.

***

Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night. He was wide awake. He was still used to these few hours of sleep.

He was lost and felt scared. It was dark. At first, he didn't move and kept holding his breath. He could feel somebody breathe against his back. He carefully felt around and there was a hand flat on his stomach. He wasn't alone in his bed. John.

He remembered. He was with Sir. John. He had made him climax. He had felt like being in heaven. He never had felt like that before. And even when he had given him a blow-job, it had felt good and not as before. His brother had been holding him by his hair and fucked his face violently until he both gagged and swallowed everything he retched up. He shivered and pulled his limbs back under the duvet.

He carefully took John's hand and entwined their fingers. He still could feel him breathe against his back and his nose pressed into his shoulder-blade. He smiled, he felt good. He ignored the pain as he was used to.

Then he saw Tom walk inside. He stood in front of the bed watching Sherlock who lifted up the duvet. Tom jumped up and curled at the end of the bed. Sherlock stretched so his feet were against his fur. It was warm and nice and he fell asleep again.

John woke when the sun shone on his face. They had been moving in the meantime and his head was on Sherlock's stomach by now, their fingers were still entwined but by their side and Tom had moved upwards, too.

He lifted up his head and found Sherlock awake. He smiled widely but stayed down. Sherlock looked serious at first but when he saw him smile, he returned it and pressed his fingers.

“When did he get in?” Sherlock shrugged.

“It was still dark. I thought he felt left out. I am sorry if I did wrong.”

“No, don't worry. He probably was just curious. It's fine. He often stays here.”

“I liked it, my feet were warm.” John laughed.

“Yes, I was warm, too.” He locked eyes with him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Safe. Relaxed. Good. Sated. Hungry. Sweaty. Alive. Grateful.”

“Sounds good to me.” John got up on his knees and smacked a kiss on his lips.

“I'll take a shower and prepare breakfast for us.” Sherlock could just nod and watched John leave the room. It took him a bit longer until he started to sweat and pant. He started to look at Tom and stroked him which made him feel a bit better.

Finally, he was able to get up. He could hear John in the bath. He walked into the living room followed by Tom. He took the blanket from the sofa and threw it around him. He chewed on his lips and then dared to open the fridge to get the juice. He poured some into a glass and opened the door to the balcony. He stepped outside and jerked when he heard the voice.

“Good morning there. Tom, who is your friend?” Tom barked once and wagged his tail. Sherlock relaxed. He had heard the voice yesterday. It was the woman taking care of Tom. He looked to the side and saw her. She looked nice. He cleared his throat.

“Good morning.” Tom stood with his paws on the railing and Sherlock drank his juice. She had stepped inside again and Sherlock was able to relax.

Now John stepped outside, too. He had watched Sherlock for some minutes and saw him moving about, taking the juice and go outside. He was making quick progress which was good. They still had to talk.

Sherlock sat on the chair with his long legs on the railing. He looked up at John and smiled.

“You look insane.” John laughed pointing at Sherlock. He pouted, he really did.

“No, I don't. I am sitting in the sun, having juice and I am not, not ...” He looked down.

“You are not?” He put his feet down and looked up at John.

“I am not scared.” John nodded.

“That's great. Come on inside, take a shower and have breakfast with me. Please?” Sherlock stood and walked inside. He disappeared into the bathroom. John had just found him a bit stroppy. Well, he would take care of it.

When Sherlock returned, breakfast was ready. He poured them coffee and made him eat. And when they were done, he asked him.

“A few minutes back, you wanted to stay outside a bit longer, didn't you?”

“Yes.” Sherlock wouldn't look at him.

“Why didn't you say so?”

“Because you wanted me inside taking a shower and have breakfast with you. And because you said please.”

“Don't hold back. Tell me what you want. I tell you what I want. Now I want to talk to you. I don't want something like yesterday happen again. I need to know more about your past.”

“You talk as if it was over. It isn't, John. We can't run.”

“Why not?”

“He wants me back. And I will go back to save you. I can't let him harm you.”

“You told me you know stuff. What stuff exactly?”

“I listened to his words when he was on the phone or when he was muttering to himself when typing on his laptop or mobile. Sometimes he had files on his desk I could look at. I sometimes did when I was bored. He never realised.”

“So? What stuff?”

“Intelligence. Killings. Wars. Elections. Manipulation. Bribe.”

“Does he have any friends?” Sherlock laughed sadly.

“Friends? He doesn't have friends. He knows people who owe him. Or he just tells them what he wants and they do it because they are afraid of him.”

“I see.”

“I am afraid you don't.”

“Do you think me stupid?” John stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Sherlock didn't look at him when he replied.

“You simply must be if you truly believe you can take me away from him without consequences.” John lowered his arms moving forward and Sherlock jerked away as if scared to be hit.

“Sherlock, were you just scared of me?” He still didn't look up.

“You raised your hands.”

“Because I wanted to touch you, not hit you.” Carefully Sherlock raised his head and looked into John's eyes. He tried to relax. This was John, and not his brother, he was talking back to.

“John, what makes you think you can win against my brother?” Nevertheless, his voice was a bit shaky.

“I have friends.” John very carefully raised his hand and carded through his hair. Slowly Sherlock's eyes closed and he gave in.

***

John just left him alone for a while and went to call his friends back from his time in the army. He also called DI Gregory Lestrade, his best friend from Scotland Yard. He just told him he had a problem and wasn’t able to talk about it on the phone. Instead, he wanted to meet him. They agreed to meet in their local the following night. John returned into his living room and found Sherlock still on the sofa with his legs pulled under. He hadn't moved a bit.

“What do you want to do?” He looked up at John and his eyes were wet. He slowly shook his head.

“I don't know. It's too much. I can't decide. I don't know ...”

“Do you want to know what I want to do?” Sherlock still looked at him and his lips quivered. He didn't answer him though. He was overwhelmed with everything. His life had become upside-down. Right now, he wasn't able to cope.

“I very much want to play.” That made Sherlock look up. He exactly knew what that meant. Slowly he unfolded his legs and went down on his knees. His hands crept up and were placed on his nape. John stood in front of him and looked down. Very carefully he placed his palm on his head. Perhaps this would give him some rest, calmed his mind.

He wasn't sure if he was doing this right, if this was right. But he found he needed to show him that a scene could happen without pain and being tormented. He needed to show him how different a dom could act. And he needed Sherlock to really trust him. Trust him with everything.

“Do you want to play, Sherlock?”

“Yes, Sir.” John bit his lip but carried on.

“Do you consent?” He fisted some strands of his hair and pulled it so he was forced to look at him.

“Yes, I do, Sir.”

“Very good. Stay.” He let go of his hair and took some steps back. He watched him for several minutes. Sherlock didn't move a bit. He kept kneeling upright. Finally, John turned around and retrieved the toy-box. He placed it on the sofa behind him. He didn't even flinch.

“Get up and undress.” Sherlock did and placed his clothes neatly folded onto the ground beside him.

“Hands crossed on your back.” He did that, too, and John took a rope and tied his wrists on his lower back.

“Kneel.” He fell back down on his knees and his eyes were on the floor. Now John took a piece of black silk and blindfolded him. He felt him tense but didn't take it off again. Instead, he tied his calves to his thighs and pulled his knees apart. He started to touch his cock and testicles but nothing happened.

“Sherlock, it's me. You may enjoy yourself. Just give in. It's me.” Sherlock's head fell down and he shivered some more. John kissed him deeply and teased his nipples. Finally, he made him moan. He looked back down again and saw him being hard. He smiled.  
He touched his neck and led him down.

“Stay.” Sherlock didn't move. John slicked his fingers and started to rim him. He pulled his cheeks apart and licked him. Sherlock moaned but didn't move. John pressed his tongue inside and licked his insides. His puckered hole twitched and John was able to shove two fingers inside at once. He stretched him out and rubbed over his prostate. Sherlock started to sob and tremble but still didn't move. John's other hand was on his back telling him to stay down.

“You are such a beautiful creature, Sherlock. You are perfect.” Sherlock's breath hitched. John pulled his fingers out and wiped them clean on a towel. He took a vibrating plug out of the box and lubed it. Carefully he pushed it inside and set it to a lower level. Then he pulled him up again.

“Does it feel good, Sherlock?” He just nodded.

“Answer me properly. I need to hear you.” He swallowed once.

“Yes, Sir, it feels good. Thank you, Sir.”

“Very good. Now tell me what you want, what you need.” He once licked over his lips.

“I need to feel you. Only you, Sir. John. I want to fully concentrate on you. Please.”

“That's good, Sherlock.” He freed his legs and made him lie down on the ground. Then he tied his ankles and knees. He took a pair of ear-plugs and inserted them. Then he took some of his own bondage-tape and placed it over his mouth and ears.

He let his hands move over his body. His prick twitched when he teased his nipples. He licked around them and sucked alternately. He didn't hurt him at all. Instead, he made him enjoy the play. And he admired his self-control. He never had a sub behaving like this.

He licked the pre-cum off his penis and elicited deep noises from behind the tape. He moved like a serpent on the floor moving his head from side to side. John teased him some more and only when he felt his pulse flutter and his head slowly lolled over the carpet, he made him orgasm by both rub his cock and pull at the plug. His whole body arched and he made weak noises when he came. Then he didn't move at all anymore. John needed two seconds after that and came without any stimulation. He came all over Sherlock's naked body and their cum mixed on Sherlock's skin. John knelt shaking beside him and shook his head. He needed some more minutes to come down again.

He knelt beside him and shook his body. There was no reaction. Carefully he took off the tape. He was out cold. He untied him and took away the plug. He pulled his body up and into his arms. He slowly stroked over his hair and caressed him.

“Sherlock? Please? Wake up.” He placed tender kisses on his face and lips. He quietly moaned and his head moved. His eyes fluttered open and his eyes found John. He weakly smiled and tried to touch him.

“John. Sir. I had no idea ...” His eyes closed again.

“No idea ...”

“You can have this whenever you want. Are you willing to fight for it?” Sherlock's hand found his and pulled it to his lips. He kissed his palm.

“Yes.”


	5. Fight

Sherlock was dreaming. He saw sequences of his former life. He saw violence, sex, torture, sex, his brother, Sir, sex. He couldn't wake up. He was caught in his past.

Finally, he saw John. John with the transport-box, ropes, the toy-box. He felt his longing and his love for this man. He would do everything to keep him. Even fight his powerful brother. At least, he would try. He could kill himself afterwards any time if it didn't work. So, he had nothing to lose, hadn't he?

The dream made him go back to the most violent places in his young life. He watched from the outside. He watched his body being spread-eagled against a wooden cross and whipped bloody. Then he knelt on the floor watching his brother fuck men he had brought home just to show him what to expect later. He saw the diaper, the transport-box he was forced into, and all the electric toys being used on him.

The dream ended with the sun shining down on him, the smell of wildflowers and the call from John. Sir. Dr John. Sir.

“Sherlock! Wake up! You are dreaming! Jesus, wake up, please!” He was shaken and slowly came back. When he woke, his whole body was wet with sweat and he was panting. He clung to John's body who held him tight against his chest. Sherlock just deeply inhaled and came down.

“John...” His arms went around him and he clawed into his clothes.

“Oh, Sherlock, what the fuck did you dream of?” He moved his hair out of his face where it was plastered to his pale skin.

“You don't want to know ...” He slowly shook his head and his voice was all croaky.

“I shouldn't have asked you to play. I am so, so sorry.” John just sat there being held.

“Don't you love me anymore? John? I consented. You even asked. I never was asked before.”

“I triggered your memories, it's obvious.”

“I am sorry...” John grabbed his shoulders and held him, so he could look into his eyes.

“You are sorry? No, no, no, Sherlock. I am sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” They hugged each other. John's fingers moved over his naked body feeling the bones and ribs.

“You need to eat. Let's have lunch.” He got up and prepared some sandwiches. He poured juice, too. While Sherlock nibbled on some sandwiches, he unconsciously looked outside.

“Would you like to go outside for a walk?” Sherlock focused on John again and smiled.

“Are you a mind-reader?”

“Sometimes?” They got ready and walked by the Thames. Sherlock looked at everything and soon enough his eyes found the _London Eye_. It turned in the sun.

“What's that?” Sherlock stared.

“That's the _London Eye_. It was built for the Millennium. It was years ago.” Sherlock sadly looked at John.

“It moves...” John realised he had never seen it. He again felt so sad for him.

“Yes, it does. Do you want to go for a ride?” Sherlock looked from the _London Eye_ to John and back. Then he bit his lips.

“You can go and ride on top?” He kept looking.

“Yes, you can. We could. Would you like to?” John looked at him.

“Yes, very much so.” They looked at each other now and Sherlock dared to take his hand. John smiled and they walked over. John paid the fee and also handed over a generous tip. Now they sat in a cabin all by themselves. Sherlock kept holding John's hand and they sat on the bench. Sherlock kept staring at the scenery and John explained the skyline. Up at the highest point, the ride stopped for several minutes and Sherlock unconsciously stood but kept holding his hand.

“Look, John, it's amazing! What's all this?” And he looked at him with wide eyes and John saw all the loss, the feeling, the curiosity and the want in him. His heart warmed and he smiled. He explained everything he knew.

On their way back, Sherlock was completely overwhelmed. He didn't say a word but kept looking at John. John just smiled back and was happy. When they reached his flat, Sherlock fell on the sofa being harassed by Tom.

“He likes you!” Sherlock caressed Tom.

“I like him, too.” He looked up at John.

“I like you, too. John, please, I do.” John was rummaging through his takeaway menus right then and looked back at him.

“Do you think I don't believe you? Don't you know how much I like you?”

“I am still very much confused. I don't know what I feel. I know what I want to feel. You feel good.”

“Oh, Sherlock ...” He came over to him and kissed him forgetting all about takeaway.

“This is all a bit too much, isn't it?” Sherlock just nodded and was close to tears again.

“I am sorry, John. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I just don't know what ...” Helplessly he shook his head.

“Listen, I think you need to rest. I want you to come down and sleep for a bit. And if you want to talk about anything, you do. I will listen to you, I will always be there for you.”

“I can't rest or even sleep. I slept for five hours during the last night. I haven't slept that long for ages.” John realised suddenly how insane his brother really was. His knowledge of Sherlock's past was increasing and it felt horrible.

“I would like to give you something which will make you sleep for some hours. You will feel better afterwards.” Sherlock's eyes became wide and he slowly shook his head.

“No, John. Please. Don't sedate me. No drugs. Please, don't ...” John just stared at him. What did he know about drugs? About being sedated?

“Sherlock, calm down. It's fine. If you don't want it, I won't force it on you. It was just a suggestion.”

“My brother, he used drugs on me to make me comply, to behave. I knew what happened. I didn't want the things he made me do but the drugs forced me to do obey.”

“Could you tell me what you would like to do?” Sherlock looked at John. It took him some minutes to reply.

“I would like to sit on the sofa with you and watch a film. I read the back of the case when you were in the bathroom. It says it is about espionage and supposed to be exciting.”

“You would like to watch TV with me?” John looked at him a bit unbelievingly.

“Yes, but if you ...” But John shook his head.

“No, no. I am just wondering…

“We could watch something else?” Sherlock suggested. John kept looking at him.

“No, it's just so weird. I didn't think of offering you this. See, I have loads of films on DVD we could watch.”

“What's a DVD?” Sherlock asked. John just looked at him. He didn't comment but got his collection out of his cupboard, plus the one Sherlock had found already.

“See? Many films and series. Have a look and pick something. Whatever you want, we will be watching it.” He placed the box beside Sherlock who started to rummage through it. Meanwhile, John made tea. He put some biscuits on a plate and brought it, too. When he returned he found Sherlock sorting through a few cases.

“Did you find something?”

“I think so. This seems to be interesting. What's that?” He held up the second season of _Dr Who_. John broadly smiled.

“This is fantastic. You will like it. Let me explain the concept.” And he did. Sherlock just looked at him. Then they watched. Sherlock was fascinated. After they had watched for a few hours, Sherlock unconsciously rubbed his belly.

“Are you hungry?” His hand quickly disappeared.

“Are you?” He dared to ask and John considered the question.

“Yes, I actually am. Let me see what I have in stock.” John got up and Sherlock slowly turned around kneeling on the sofa, so he could watch him rummage through the cupboards.

“What are you doing?” He dared to ask again. Tom sat beside him on the sofa.

“Checking our supplies. There is enough for spaghetti bolognese. Do you like?” Sherlock just looked.

“I don't know what that means.” John looked at him. It had been the right decision to cook and not order takeaway. Sherlock needed this experience. He needed fresh and healthy food and cooking was always relaxing.

“I think you will like it. Come over here and help me preparing dinner.” Happily, Sherlock strode over and started to cut mushrooms. John made him stir the beef and he took a handful bending down giving it to Tom.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock jerked and looked up at John still at his position down below.

“I shared with Tom. I am sorry if you don't approve...” Tom had eaten out of his hand and now Sherlock stood there motionless. His body was still halfway up and he stayed like this looking at John.

“No, it's not that I… You see, I approve of you wanting to share and decide on your own to do so. It's all fine. Next time though, please set it into his bowl, OK?” Sherlock still just looked at him holding his hand in the air as if it would fall off any minute now.

“You are not angry with me?” He obviously was scared. John could see it very clearly. He was expecting some sort of punishment. He had to calm him down.

“Sherlock, I am not angry with you. I was just surprised. Please, come over here and wash your hands.” Slowly he came up to John and did as being told. John handed him a tea-towel and he dried his hands. Then he kept just looking at him as if waiting for orders.

John reached out for him and at once he came up to him. He pulled Sherlock close to his body and hugged him. His hands moved soothingly over his back. Then he gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Now go ahead with stirring the beef and chop some onions, please?” He smiled up at him and only now Sherlock's body relaxed in his hold. He shyly smiled and concentrated on the pan again. Afterwards he chopped the onions and added them to the mix. He looked at the other things John had laid out and his big brain put together what the sauce needed.

Cooking was something he had never done before. He wasn't given something to eat regularly anyway. He enjoyed this and it showed on his face. John just leant against the counter and watched him. Finally, the pasta was cooking and Sherlock rubbed his hands together. He turned around to find John watching him with a smile on his face.

“Would you like a drink?” Sherlock tilted his head and considered the question. He had done so many forbidden things already, it wouldn't matter if he drank. That's why he nodded.

“Yes, I think I would.” John poured drinks for them and they sipped it in the little kitchen. Sherlock held the amber fluid in his mouth and let it swirl around his tongue. It tasted smoky and raw. It was nice. His eyes were closed and he enjoyed the feeling it left in his mouth.

John looked at Sherlock savouring the whiskey. Then he started to set up the table. They sat down and had dinner. Sherlock made a mess of his spaghetti. His mouth was plastered with tomato sauce and so was his shirt. He tried to slurp one into his mouth and it disappeared between his lips. John could just stare at him; the look of him was amazing. He smiled. Sherlock sensed something and looked at him.

“I am sorry. I think I have to practice this. I made a mess.”

“Never mind. It's worth it if you enjoy it.” He swirled the pasta around his fork and Sherlock watched. Then he did the same and ate everything. He even took a second helping. Then he leant back on his chair and spread his legs. He looked sated and tired. John was so damn happy.

“Are you doing fine?” Sherlock lazily nodded.

“Yes, I am.” He looked at the bottle and then at John.

“May I have another drink, please?”

“Of course, Sherlock. You don't have to ask. Help yourself but bring me a glass, too, please.” Sherlock prepared the drinks and brought them over. But he kept holding them in his hands.

“Let's sit on the sofa. It's comfier.” John was surprised but nodded. Slowly he came over and sat on the sofa beside Sherlock. Now he was given his drink.

“Thank you, love.” Calling him love always made his eyes shine bright and his ears became red. He pulled his legs under and looked at John.

“It's still so new. It feels so good. I feel so good with you. I want us to be together forever.”

“We will fight for that.” Sherlock slowly shook his head.

“As long as we are on British soil, we are doomed. We have to leave the country and hide.”

“What?” John looked up at him.

“I said we need to leave the country to be safe. Mycroft would find us everywhere in Britain. We never would be safe.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I am still thinking about it.” John sipped his drink.

“I see.”

“I am afraid you don't. He will be calling you soon to ask after me. He will want me back with him. What are we going to do then?”

“First of all, I will tell him that you still need to be taken care of, that you are in shock somehow. I will prove that with hospital reports. I have friends who will cover.”

“Are you sure you can really trust them?” John nodded.

“Absolutely.” They finished their drinks. Sherlock placed his head on John's lap and reached out for his hand which he placed on his chest. John liked him doing these things. He felt his love and his trust. He was responsible for him now. Sherlock looked up at him and smiled. John lowered his head and pecked a kiss on his lips. Now he closed his eyes and sighed. His fingers tightened around his hand.

He thought about his life. He could never endanger John. John would do anything for him, he just knew that for a fact. But was he really worth that? They would be running from his powerful brother forever. Whatever John said about friends and such. Sherlock knew better.

He would safe these days in a special place inside his head. He could always go back there when needed.

“What are you thinking about?” John quietly asked.

“Us. Running. Always.” Sherlock quietly answered.

“We could go to a country where he wouldn't find us.”

“Such as?”

“North Africa, South America, the Non-Commonwealth?” Sherlock sat up straight again.

“That's actually quite a nice idea. Let me think about it.” But suddenly he looked at John again.

“But it can't be ...” And he shook his head looking distressed.

“Why not?” John wondered.

“You can't give up everything you have achieved in your life.”

“For you, I would. I can be a doctor everywhere.”

“We still have to leave the country. And what about Tom?”

“Tom is coming with us.” Then John's mobile rang. He glanced at the display and swallowed. Sherlock watched him and knew who was calling. He desperately looked at John slowly shaking his head. John just held up his hand to calm him down.

“Dr Watson speaking?” A serious voice came over the phone.

“This is Mycroft Holmes, Dr Watson. I am back from work but still in London. And I would like to know about my brother.” John cleared his throat.

“Yes, of course. As I have told you already or at least told your assistant, I took your brother out of the hospital to take care of him 24/7. He has recovered rather fine but still suffers nerve infection and severe cramps. I would like to have him around for at least another four days if you don't mind. After that, he will be as good as new.” Mycroft chuckled.

“That sounds fine to me, Dr Watson.” Then there was a break until John felt the urge to say some more.

“Do you want me to send the file?”

“Yes, of course. I also want a report of how he behaved when you took him outside.” John closed his eyes and bit his lips.

“Sure thing, Mr Holmes. I can ensure you that he behaved as expected.”

“Very well. I am awaiting your report. Good day.” He hung up and John wiped his wrist over his mouth. Sherlock stared at him and was trembling all over.

“He knew, didn't he?” John nodded.

“Yes, he did. He wants a report on your behaviour.” Sherlock's body just moved off the sofa and sagged on the floor. At once he was harassed by Tom who nudged his body. Sherlock slung his arms around the dog and buried his face into his fur. His shoulders shook but he made no noises.

John knelt by his side and touched him.

“Sherlock, please. We can do this.” Now Sherlock looked at him.

“How? I am ruining your life, John. I can't do this. I will be going back.” But John shook his head.

“No, I forbid it! I wouldn't have a single happy day in my life again if you do. We have to find a way. You need to tell me everything you know about your brother. Can you do that?”

“Yes...” Sherlock slowly let go of Tom and came back onto the sofa. And he began to talk. John listened to everything and tried to make use of it.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and at once, Sherlock looked alarmed. He looked at John silently asking for direction.

John stood and walked to the door pressing the button for the camera.

“Greg?” He was surprised and then it hit him. He had forgotten about their meeting. He had been supposed to meet him in their pub because he wanted to ask for help.

“Yes, John. It's me. Your friend Greg. I was worried.” John relaxed again and buzzed him in.

“Come on up. I need to talk to you and introduce you to someone.” He opened the door and returned to Sherlock's side. He still clung to Tom and looked rather scared.

“Greg is a friend of mine, a very good friend. He is a DI with Scotland Yard. Homicide. You will like him.” John smiled. Then there was a knocking sound and the door was closed. Steps came closer and a man entered the living room. He looked kind and smiled. His expression changed a bit to curiosity when seeing Sherlock.

“Hello?” He looked at John who stood and hugged him.

“I am sorry I forgot you but I have been busy. Meet my Sherlock.” He gestured over but Sherlock didn't move.

“Sherlock, meet Greg. He is my best friend and I asked him for assistance.” Now Sherlock looked up but only met John's eyes.

“Do not make him risk his career. Not for me. I couldn't live with it.” He looked unbelievingly sad. Now Greg looked confused.

“Talk to me, John. What the hell is going on here?” At first though, John poured drinks for everyone and then explained the situation. Greg listened to everything and after John had ended, he downed his drink.

“You got yourself into a very dangerous situation, John. I have heard of Mycroft Holmes. He is a dangerous man. He rules over Scotland Yard, too. He rules over a lot of things. He can do everything without anyone ever asking questions.”

“Fuck...” John groaned and rubbed over his eyes. Then he looked at Sherlock again.

“But I can't ever let him go back to his insane brother. I just can't...” He shook his head.

Sherlock looked up at him.

“I will never forget what we had. I will always love you, John. But I could not live with the knowledge of ruining your life or even kill you.” He slowly shook his head.

“You have to give me up. You have to stop thinking of me. Caring for me. What you want, it is just not possible.”

“I have to do something. Even if it means to kill. Again...” Greg looked quite a bit worried.

“Please, John. Don't do anything stupid.” Greg stood and topped up their drinks.

“I am not doing anything stupid. I will make a plan to free Sherlock. And I will do it with the utmost perfection. You know what I have been doing before I returned.” Now Sherlock looked between them. What had John not told him?

“Yes, I do. And by now, Mycroft Holmes will also know. He already knew about you two going out, am I right? How did you explain that? Your little excursion into London? And by the way, you texted me on my official mobile. And that's why he knew and did some more research. He will have seen you on CCTV after having read your texts. He is already monitoring your emails and mobile. That is what he does and no one will stop him. He is the bloody law, John." Greg was both angry and exhausted after his little speech. John was just shocked but soon spoke again.

“If I send Sherlock back to his insane brother, he will torture him. He will rape him. He will hurt him. I can't...” John shook his head.

“Yes, he will hurt me. He will do everything to me he wants. He will punish me for being weak. And he will finally deflower me.” Now John stared at him.

“You are still a virgin? And you haven't told me?” His voice was different now and Sherlock jerked backwards almost falling over Tom.

“John, you are scaring him right now.” Greg said placing his hand on John's shoulder. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

“I am sorry. I never would have initiated a scene if I knew.” He shook his head.

Sherlock slowly sat up again and then even stood.

“But what you did was wonderful. I enjoyed it. I really did. You gave me pleasure. You allowed me to feel pleasure.” Greg looked at both of them.

“John, you should explain your past to Sherlock.” John nodded and Sherlock curiously looked at him.

“I have been a soldier with the RAMC. I have been to Afghanistan. I did several tours. I did special ops. I don't know what else to tell you.” He helplessly shrugged but Sherlock looked very interested.

“I am glad you told me.” Sherlock said quietly and started to think about everything with a fresh perspective.

“I believe there is only one way to free your man from his brother's grip. And I am afraid of saying it out loud.” Greg looked at John.

“You have an idea? Shoot!” John expectantly looked at him.

“You have to kill him.”

***

Mycroft Holmes sat in his office in Whitehall reading the file about John Watson's army career. It was quite impressive. Mycroft had actually underestimated the good doctor.

Well, it wouldn't happen again.

As soon as he would have his brother back, collared and bound, he would also take care of Captain John Watson. Very slowly he would ruin him and watch the procedure.

He would ensure he'd lose his position in the hospital. By now, he held a chair in the hospital's board. Afterwards he would cut his army pension so he lost his flat. He would send a vet to take his dog away or have it run over and make him watch. He yet wasn't sure but both things turned him on.

And when John Watson would finally live on the streets, he would take him in and show him his dungeon. And Sherlock would watch him suffer and die.

He leant back in his chair and was very pleased with himself.

The first thing though he had to arrange was the destruction of DI Gregory Lestrade. He had thought him smarter, more intelligent. He had thought he knew about him and to be careful. But it had turned out differently. He was John Watson's best friend and he had to be taken out of the game.


	6. Downfall

Greg had returned into his home and wondered how long it would take until he was affected by the whole affair. It surely would be smarter to hold back and let things happen the way they would and should.

But John was his best friend for years. And Sherlock seemed to be a nice guy. They were deeply in love. Greg had seen that.

Plus, the fact that Mycroft Holmes abused his younger brother, both sexually and mentally made him re-think his actions. He was a policeman. He couldn't just watch. He had to help the man, no matter the costs.

He counted on counter-measures already and had a plan at hand. He was a good detective after all.

He had gone to visit a rather famous man in London's crime-scene called James Moriarty. Beforehand he had placed his question and asked him _"Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to get rid of my friend's nasty brother?"_. Greg was convinced he wouldn't go against Mycroft Holmes, not directly anyway, but he would help him. Because then, he would owe him big time.

He had a contact who knew how to contact Moriarty and Greg had received a note in his letterbox after having asked his question. The note told him where to go and when. It also said _"Just so."_.

And now he stood in front of a rather normal house in Kingston-upon-Thames and rang the door-bell. It was opened by an impressive man, tall and blond and very military. Greg had to look up at him.

“Come in, DI Lestrade. James is already waiting for you.” He invitingly smiled and gestured him inside. Greg made the final step and entered the place. The huge blond took his jacket and searched him for arms but Greg had none. He was led into a living room and there he was. The famous James Moriarty. He expectantly looked at him turning his head slowly from left to right and back while he looked him over. Greg felt cold. The man was snake-like and dangerous.

“DI Lestrade, welcome. How can I be of assistance to the mighty Scotland Yard?” He asked coming closer.

“It's a private matter, Sir.” Greg replied being polite. Moriarty broadly smiled being called _Sir_.

“Sebastian, be a love and pour us drinks?” He didn't look at the blond but he did as he was told anyway. Greg was made to sit down with his drink and was rather grateful for it. He collected his thoughts and then explained what he wanted, what he needed him to do. Because he hadn't been very specific in his question, had he?

***

James Moriarty very quickly forgot everything about his drink. Instead, he listened intently and stared at Lestrade. This was better than anything in the last months!

“What you actually want me to do is to kill the older Holmes. No, do not talk back. You can't lie to me, you know? And believe me, your instinct is perfect. You have to kill him. You have to get rid of him. There is no other way to save the younger brother and your best friend.” He drawled in a low Irish accent and sometimes it wasn't easy to follow.

“Sebby, my tablet!” He ordered the blond man around like a servant but they seemed to be close. There was a certain spark in both their eyes when they looked at each other.

He was given the tablet and looked at several things. He raised his brows, then smirked or quietly laughed. Finally, he looked at Greg again.

“Expect to be sent to the north of Scotland the day after tomorrow. But rest assured it won't be for long because I am taking your case. Sebastian here will keep you informed about the progress I am making.”

“What do I owe you?” Again, he tilted his head and smiled.

“A favour time come.” Greg slowly exhaled but still thought it had been the right thing to do.

“Very well. But I need to know what you will be doing now. How will you help? What will be your actions?” Greg asked and he sounded desperate.

Moriarty and this Sebastian exchanged a glance and the blond once nodded.

“The more you know, the more dangerous it will become. But if you insist, at first I will set up a trap for him. I will invade his business and make him move. He will have no choice but to act himself. Child's play!” The last two words he called out almost cheerily.  
And then he stood. The appointment was over. Greg downed his drink and straightened up.

“Thank you, Mr Moriarty.” Greg nodded to the blond who returned the gesture.

“No, I have to thank you for the most interesting game in ages!” Moriarty rubbed his hands and turned away.

“Please, use the cab that will appear right now. It belongs to us. You will hear from me as soon as you have arrived up north.” The blond watched Greg climbing into the cab and ride away. He grinned. He also looked forward to this. Because when his boss was happy, so was he.

***

And it happened exactly what Moriarty had predicted. Greg was demoted and kicked out of Scotland Yard. He had been ordered to Scotland.

He went to see John to say good-bye before he left. John just looked at him out of wide eyes. Sherlock's face said clearly _I told you so!_ but of course he didn't say it out loud.

“Trust me, my friend. Everything will be in order soon. I did everything necessary.” John slowly nodded.

“I do trust you. We both do.” Sherlock stood close to John and looked at Greg. For the first time he directly looked at somebody else but John.

“Your plan is very good. I have read about Moriarty in my brother's files. He is very dangerous and he will be able to help.” Greg smiled.

“Don't look so shocked, John. I will be back soon enough and then we can all celebrate.”

“You two seem to be convinced. I just have to believe that it will work out. I need it to work out.” John reached for Sherlock's hand who happily took it.

“Are you going to stay here?” Greg asked.

“For our own safety, we are not going to tell you, Greg.” John said and Greg understood.

“Very well. I have to get my stuff and leave you two. My train leaves in a few hours.” John hugged him. Sherlock didn't but they shook hands. It was the only thing he could do and it was just fine.

John looked at the closed door and then at Sherlock.

“I never would have thought...” He sadly shook his head.

“I told you from the beginning. You thought it all impossible, I could see that. But now you have found out.” Sherlock quietly said stroking through Tom's fur.

“Yes, you did. Well, let's take a walk through the park with Tom.” Sherlock agreed and they left the flat.

***

The next day John bought another car for them. He also bought prepaid mobile phones. And he paid cash. They packed a few things and took the dog. Then they rode away.

John had taken precaution not to be seen by any neighbour who could talk to Mycroft's men about the new car or anything they might have watched him do.

Greg had given them an address of a place by the west coast. There were no other houses and it was protected from three sides by rocks and cliffs. You could easily watch everyone approach. John hadn't asked where this came from even though he suspected it. He only knew Greg had looked for help and found it. He really didn't want to know more.

John parked the car inside the barn and they moved in. Sherlock disappeared into the house and John looked at his back. He sighed and carried their bags inside and also the supplies he had bought on the way. Tom followed him looking around and sniffing everything on the way. John stored everything away and wondered what Sherlock was doing and where.

He walked upstairs and looked for him. He found him in front of the window staring out at the sea. He seemed to be fascinated. His mouth stood a bit open and he didn't move a bit.

John carefully stepped up.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He quietly asked.

“The sea. I have never been to the sea.” He whispered and then turned his head to look at John.

“Can we please go to the beach?” Hopefully he looked at him.

“Of course we can. It will be cold though.” But Sherlock shook his head.

“I don't mind.” He smiled and reached out for John. He did this more often now and John was happy about it.

“Would you like to go now?” Sherlock nodded at once and dashed downstairs. John followed.

“Take your boots and a thick jacket. Do not forget your scarf.” John got his stuff and looked at Sherlock who got dressed. He was excited and John liked what he saw.

“Come on.” They left the house and walked through the dunes down to the beach. Tom circled them and barked wildly. Sherlock stepped up close to the water where the waves played around his feet. He actually jumped into the water and it splashed wildly. He himself looked wild and happy.

He also stuffed his pockets full of stones and shells he wanted to have a closer look at. John just let him. There surely was a box or something in the house he could store them in.

Sherlock was so very interested in science and experiments. Everything had been suppressed in him and now he slowly came out and felt free to do what he desired.

John let him run over the beach with Tom on his heels while sitting on a rock watching him. He smiled.

Sherlock came back to him when he was done or more when he was very cold. John climbed off the rock and rubbed his large hands between his.

“Let's go back and sit before the fireplace, shall we?” Sherlock tensed and pulled his hands away. Then he turned away and ran towards the house. Tom looked at John and barked but John held him back.

It took John a moment to understand and he swore. He shouldn't have said it because it had triggered Sherlock. It had reminded him of the moment when his brother had branded him.

John quickly followed him but only got back to him inside the house. He closed the door behind him and shed his jacket. He saw Sherlock's jacket on the ground as well as his boots. He could hear him upstairs. The door to the bedroom got closed and then nothing.

He quickly followed him and tried the door. But it was locked. He worried his lips and then knocked.

“Sherlock, please. Get back outside. You need to get warm.” There was no reply. John pressed his ear against the wood and heard the bedding rustle. He had probably covered himself with the blankets and was hiding.

“I am making us tea to get warm. I will put it by the door. Please, drink it.” John signalled Tom to sit by the door and then turned away to put on the kettle in the kitchen. He listened in to the house and heard the door a minute later. He smiled.  
He heard him coming down and approach.

“I am sorry. It just hit me. The noises. The pain. Everything.” John turned around. Sherlock had one blanket slung over his shoulders.

“No, don't be sorry. I said something wrong and I have to be sorry. Are you better now?” He asked finishing the tea.

“Yes, I came down rather quickly. I know you would never do anything to me I don't want.” He shyly smiled.

“Here, drink this and please get warm. I will be sitting with you.” John slowly led him over to the fireplace and they sat down. John held him against his chest and Sherlock relaxed with his feet buried in Tom's fur.

“I am glad you understand my reactions. Sometimes it is just hard for me. I get shocked easily and also scared.” John stroked over his chest.

“We have to hold out for a bit. I am sure Greg managed something to help us. We are here because he did something.” John sipped his tea.

“Your friend is a good man. He risked his career and also his life because of us. Me.”

They sat quietly for a while looking into the fire. But after a while, Sherlock started to shift so he was able to look up at John.

“May I ask a question?” John smiled.

“Sure. Shoot.” Sherlock collected his thoughts and then started to talk.

“When you found out I still was a virgin, you reacted very strongly. You said you wouldn't have done what you did if you had known. But I need to tell you that I enjoyed what you did. It was a wonderful experience because you gave me pleasure, you let me enjoy and you didn't hurt me. You have to know by now that I love you very much. And I want you to have me. Soon. Be my first. Please...”

John placed his mug on the ground and his grip tightened.

“I love you very much and I would like to be your first. When I first saw you I knew there was something. You are special. You are smart and intelligent. You are simply wonderful.” A single tear rolled over Sherlock's cheekbone but he smiled.

“Let's do it tonight. Later tonight. With candles and wine.” Sherlock looked at John who swallowed but finally nodded.

“Let's have dinner first. I don't want you to faint.” He smiled and pushed him off. Sherlock grunted and glared. But he stood and followed John into the kitchen. He also picked up the mugs and put them into the dishwasher.

“What do you want to eat?” John asked and showed him the supplies. Sherlock chose a risotto and John started to work while Sherlock set up the table.

Suddenly, Tom started to growl and bare his teeth. He ran up to the door and stood on his hind legs scratching over the wood and trying to get out. Both men heard a car approach. Sherlock slowly turned and looked at John. At once he looked scared.

John though ran over to his backpack and retrieved his gun. He made Sherlock hide and stood beside the window after having dimmed the light. The car stopped by the barn and a large man got out. He moved normally and didn't try to sneak in or anything. 

John wasn't able to see much because there wasn't enough light by the barn. He didn't know who the man was but he was suspicious.

The man came up to the door and even knocked. John raised a brow but didn't relax or even lower his gun.

“What do you want?” He spoke through the door.

“I am part of the group your friend Lestrade approached for help. I need to talk to you. My name is Sebastian Moran.” Inside John's brain, a memory popped up and he ripped open the door.

“Colonel Moran?” They stared at each other and now John lowered his gun.

“Captain Watson, may I come in?” John's face showed his surprise but he trusted this man. And he let him in.

“Sure, come on. What are you doing here?” Moran grinned and stepped inside. And got jumped by Tom. He crashed back against the door and he huffed.

“Tom, no! Leave him!” Tom huffed into his face but let go. He stood close though and still growled.

“You brought your dog?” He asked.

“Of course, I brought my dog. I would never leave him behind.” John replied.

“Anyway. Your best buddy came to my boss who also provided this place for you and the younger Holmes.” He looked around.

“Where is he anyway?” He wondered.

“Hiding. We didn't know who was coming.” Moran nodded.

“I see. Well, I need to talk to you about the progress my boss made. He sent me here.” John locked the door again and they sat in the living room.

“Won't you introduce me?” Sebastian was very curious to meet Sherlock Holmes. But John denied him.

“No, this would stress him. He is still very shy around others. I don't want him to be scared.”

“I understand. Well, let me explain the situation to you then.” They settled and John listened to what he had to say.

“Well, so far your friend Lestrade is up in north Scotland working in a small police station by the coast. Alone. But he is OK. He hasn't been harmed. My boss has set up a trap for Mycroft Holmes in which he simply has to step. He won't be able to involve other persons or the police or even the secret service. My boss dug out something from the past and arranged everything necessary. It will take place the day after tomorrow.” John looked at him.

“That sounds very ominous. Can't you tell me more?” But Moran shook his head.

“No, I insisted on coming here and tell you this much. James wasn't very pleased but he finally agreed. You know, the moment I found out who you were, I just had to come and see you.” Sebastian smiled.

“You know, you being involved makes me already feel much better.” John smiled and Moran nonchalantly shrugged.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Sebastian's face lightened up.

“Did you cook?” John nodded and Sebastian stayed.

“Stay here and feel free to take a drink from the bar. I'll get Sherlock and explain.” John left and found Sherlock already busy in the kitchen.

“You were supposed to hide.” John said and Sherlock looked over his shoulder.

“Why should I hide when you invite the man inside?” John shook his head but liked him talking back.

“You are right, of course. I invited him for dinner. I would like you to meet him. This man is helping us and you should know him, too.” John said watching him stir the risotto.

“You know him already, don't you?” Sherlock asked and John nodded.

“Yes, we did several ops in Afghanistan and other places I am not supposed to talk about.” Sherlock grinned.

“That sounds exciting. One day you just have to tell me about it.” John grinned, too.

“One day I surely will.” Sherlock lowered the heat and followed John into the living room. Sebastian had just poured a wine and now faced the men. Sherlock stood close to John but looked at him rather curiously. Moran smiled and greeted him.

“Hello, Sherlock. My name is Sebastian and I am part of the rescue mission.” He didn't try to shake his hand and it was the right thing to do.

“Hello.” And Sherlock replied. It was a huge step and John was happy.

Sebastian thought how beautiful and attractive he was. Very different from his big brother.

Sherlock slowly came closer but stayed on the other side of the little bar. He poured a wine for himself and John and they stood together.

“I am glad Greg found someone who might be able to help us.” Sherlock looked into his glass.

“You can be assured that he will be able to help you. My boss is very capable. He has already found weak spots and works with them.” Now Sherlock openly looked at him.

“My brother doesn't have weak spots.” He spat out the word _brother_. But Sebastian just smiled.

“Yes, he does. Believe me.”

“If you say so...” Sherlock slowly shook his head and sat down. He looked tired and exhausted and John stroked over his head.

“I'll finish dinner. You stay here and talk with Sebastian. Or you don't. Whatever you wish.” John let him sit there on purpose. He wanted to see if he would manage to be alone with him. But he didn't stand and followed him. Instead, Tom approached Sherlock and sat close to him. He still looked alert and very often stared at the stranger.

Sebastian sat down, as well, and tried to talk to him some more. And he just talked about John's and his past in the army. Soon enough, Sherlock was listening to him. He seemed to be more alert by the minute.

When John called them to the table, Sherlock stood and looked at him.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I appreciate it.” Sebastian smiled and they walked over. Sebastian praised John's risotto and so did Sherlock. John actually blushed.

Sebastian left a while after dinner and another wine and disappeared into the dark.

“I liked him.” Sherlock thoughtfully said.

“I saw that. But not too much though.” John grinned looking up at him. At once, Sherlock came close to him and hugged him.

“No, of course not. I love you, John. So much...” He lowered his head and buried his face into his neck. John held him tight and wondered if he was still in the mood.

“Yes, I am...” Sherlock whispered and again John was surprised.

“Don't deny it, you are able to read my mind.” He whispered and felt Sherlock smile.

“Your face is like an open book, John. All your questions and thoughts are there for me to read.” They kissed languidly and soon Sherlock felt John's cock against his body. And he also got hard. And he allowed himself to get hard.

This was different. He was allowed to show his love and his feelings. He didn't have to suppress anything, not even his words and noises.

John took his hand.

“Shall we?” His voice was rough.

“But I haven't been cleaned out.” Sherlock shook his head.

“You don't have to. Although, if you want to?” But Sherlock pressed his hand.

“No, I don't want that.” They walked upstairs where a fire was burning, too.

John reached out for him and began to slowly undress him. Sherlock felt a bit strange. Normally, he was told to undress himself, fold his clothes neatly and present his body.

“Hush, stop thinking. Enjoy what I am doing.” John whispered and Sherlock concentrated on him.

Soon he was naked. The fire shone on his marble-like skin and John admired him. He didn't see his scars, he had them himself. He only saw the most beautiful man ever.

His hands moved over his tormented skin and Sherlock closed his eyes. He quietly moaned and his prick twitched.

Suddenly John dropped on his knees and took his cock. He held it and closed his lips around it. Sherlock made a shocked noise and just stared down. John looked up while he hollowed his cheeks and sucked.

Sherlock thought his soul was sucked out. He had never been given head. His brother, of course, had never sucked his cock, had given him a blow-job. No one ever had.

He whimpered and didn't know where to put his hands. But he didn't pull away either.

John's head bopped up and down and he took him all the way in while his fingers massaged his testicles. Now Sherlock openly groaned.

John took his hand and placed it on his head. At once, Sherlock's long fingers moved through his short hair. His other hand followed and he concentrated on John, John's hot mouth, his lips pressed around his cock and the tingling that went up and down his spine.

But he never moved his hips and pushed into him. Not once. He stood like nailed to the spot and simply felt.

John's hand moved over to his arse and massaged his cheeks. Sherlock knew he was allowed to let go whenever he wanted and he gave in. He screamed with lust and shot his cum into John's mouth. And he kept sucking and licking and he even swallowed.

Sherlock swallowed, too. He also was sweaty and swayed a bit. John stood and held him. He made him sit on the bed and they kept looking at each other.

Sherlock didn't know what to say and slowly shook his head. John palmed his face and kissed him so Sherlock could taste himself on his tongue. And he started to moan again. He also became hard again very quickly.

They moved on the bed and John gave him the choice of how to position himself.

“I don't know. The only thing I know is that I trust you. You will do it right.” John knew he had to be very careful with him and he smiled.

“As you wish, my love. Lie down and let me take care of you.” John whispered and used a bit of pressure against Sherlock's shoulders to make him move.

When he finally was on his back, John started to move his hands over his body. He concentrated on his nipples and stomach at first. While he rubbed over his belly, he sucked and licked his nipples.

Slowly Sherlock's arms came up and went around John's broad shoulders. His large hands moved over his muscular back and reached his behind. Sherlock started to explore. This was so different and suddenly it hit him.

There were no restraints. No ropes. No cuffs. Just John on top of him. Why was he doing this? Now Sherlock had no idea what to do or how to behave. He never had been touched without being restrained, gagged and collared.

His thoughts went wild and he started to pant beneath John.

“Stop thinking, love. This is me making love to you. Simply enjoy it.” John whispered against his skin and Sherlock exhaled.

“But you are a dom, too. You just can't enjoy it this way. It's not possible.” Sherlock pressed his hands against John's chest and John understood. He moved off of him and sat against the headrest.

“I am a dom, yes. But I simply want to make love to you. I love you.” John looked a bit helpless.

“I don't understand...” Sherlock still was on his back but tried to look at John from down below.

“Let's try something else then. What do you want me to do? What would you like to be done to you?” John gave him the choice and Sherlock was a bit shell-shocked.

“But I have no experiences. I don't know what I might like. I only know what I don't like.” John looked at him.

“But you must have fantasies?” But Sherlock shook his head.

“I only ever dreamed of someone running towards me, calling my name. There were wildflowers everywhere and the sun was shining brightly. I believe this was you.” Sherlock smiled and John was close to tears.

“And I am beginning to understand what you are trying to tell me. You try to show me what I could like. And you will always stop when I am telling you. I also could direct you, tell you what to do. Am I right?” John nodded.

“Yes, you are.” Sherlock looked at him for a while and finally pulled John down again.

“Then keep doing your wonders, John. I do trust you. And you know, I am still confused.” Sherlock smiled and pressed his face against John's chest.

Soon they were rolling over the mattress, and John turned them, so Sherlock was on top. Now he indeed looked confused but John just smiled.

“Go on and explore.” He whispered while his hands moved over Sherlock's scarred back. And Sherlock shifted a bit and started to kiss him everywhere. He also took his cock and gently stroked it. He got surprised when eliciting noises from John. And he kept going.

Sherlock ended up sitting on top of John who held on to the headrest and stretched his body. His prick stood up high and leaked. He once lifted his hips and Sherlock's eyes widened. He got up and simply spat into his hand to slick it. Together with John's pre-cum it was just fine and he lowered himself down. And even though he hadn't been penetrated by things, thick things, for a long time, this was not painful. This was John inside of him and it made all the difference. He didn't need any lube. He only needed John and the wildflowers.

John's cock was large and long, more than average for his height, but Sherlock easily took it. He was concentrated on himself and he moved until he was filled completely.

He exhaled and locked eyes with John. John, in return, stared up at him and his hands were tightly closed around the headrest.

“God... Fuck... Move, Sherlock. Please!” John got out the words and Sherlock's eyes widened. But he slowly started to move his hips, moved up and down and fucked himself. John pulled up his legs, so Sherlock could lean back against them.

John eyed Sherlock's cock but wasn't able to let go of the headrest. Sherlock in return just kept moving. He soon found the right angle and moved faster and faster. He took what he wanted and he liked it.

John liked it, too. Both men yelled and screamed and made the bed rattle. Sherlock felt things he had never felt before. His fingers clawed into John's flesh but he didn't mind. Flashes were before his eyes and the world became black after white light erased everything inside his head.

He screamed until he was hoarse and came all over on John's body without being touched on his cock at all. He shook and trembled and panted but kept sitting upright. His muscle clenched around John who suddenly felt soft inside him.

His large hands were splayed over his chest and his head hung low. Slowly he looked up and met John's eyes.

“This was... This was amazing.” John whispered roughly. Sherlock's face lightened up and he smiled. His eyes shone bright and his thumbs moved over John's skin.

“I don't know what else to say. I never felt something like this. I truly, deeply love you.” Both men smiled and Sherlock lowered his whole body to place himself on top of John. He didn't even notice when his prick left his body because he was in control and it didn't hurt at all. Cum leaked out of his hole but it didn't matter. He stretched his body and cupped John's face. And because he had no words, he kissed him slowly and languidly.

John groaned and slung his arms around the body above him. It was an alien feeling but this was Sherlock. Now he slowly moved off his body and slid to the side. But he kept holding on to him. His head was getting less foggy and he felt the need to say something.

“You have to understand that I am not against subbing for you. For you, it would be different because I love you and you love me. I can give myself to you and know, you won't ever hurt me or play weird games with me. So, if you want to use ropes or whatever, please talk to me.” John turned his head and looked at him.

“You know, I kept thinking about bondage. Actually, I would like to see you in bondage. You hanging in suspense.” Sherlock looked at him.

“And that's it?” Sherlock wondered and John smiled carding through his wild hair.

“Of course, I would take a picture for me.” He grinned.

“And I would give you pleasure while being in suspension.” Sherlock still just looked at him.

“This sounds so weird...” He finally whispered and slowly shook his head.

“You always will be in control.” John lifted his head and pecked a kiss on his nose. Sherlock pulled a face and wrinkled his nose. John smiled.

“You are the cutest...” Sherlock didn't react since he had no idea how.

“I need the loo. Don't go away!” John quickly rolled out of bed and disappeared into the bath. Sherlock looked at the closed door. He actually had wanted to get something to drink but John had forbidden him to leave. So he stayed.

But he sat up and against the headrest enjoying the last tingling in his spine. He spread his long legs and covered himself up to his thighs. And he just waited for John to finish. Perhaps he would go and get them a drink.

John came back and Sherlock expectantly looked up at him. John tilted his head.

“What?” John asked and Sherlock licked his lips.

“Could we please have another wine?” Sherlock asked and now John raised a brow.

“Why didn't you go and get us the bottle? I actually would like some, too.” John said climbing back under the blanket with him.

“I would have liked to...” Sherlock said looking at the blanket.

“I can hear a _but_ coming up.” John looked at him.

“But you forbid it.” Sherlock said carefully looking up.

“What? I did no such thing!” John sounded shocked and looked it, too.

“You told me to not go away.” Sherlock quietly said. Defending his action became harder by the second because he could feel John's mood changing.

“I surely did not forbid you anything. Sherlock. Please, look at me?” John said. Slowly Sherlock looked up, and he looked extremely bewildered and also a bit scared.

“It wasn't meant like that. I am sorry you got it wrong.” Sherlock still looked baffled.

“Sometimes it is very complicated. My brain tries to work it out. My heart knows you actually wouldn't do such a thing to me but then I keep analysing the words you said and I decide it's better to be careful and not risk a punishment.”

“I promise to keep it in mind and be careful with my words.” John reached out and Sherlock placed his hand into his.

“Shall I go then and get us the wine?” Sherlock asked hopefully. John smiled and pressed his hand.

“Yes, please. And some biscuits, too.” Sherlock nodded and got up. All naked he walked away only putting warm slippers on his feet. John looked at his scarred back and sighed.


	7. Under Siege

John and Sherlock spent several days in the house by the coast. They walked for hours by the sea and enjoyed it. So did Tom. Afterwards, Sherlock examined everything he had found and carried home. By now, there were several boxes with stones, shells, and stranded goods all over the place but John didn't mind. It kept Sherlock busy. The main thing though was that he liked it, that he enjoyed it.

One day they just came back from a place where goods got stored for them so they didn't have to go shopping when an unmarked, black helicopter raced over their heads and disappeared over the sea and into the mist.

They looked at each other and John worried his lips. So did Sherlock. They went back into the house and were restless for the whole day.

Sherlock didn't want to go to bed because he was scared. He kept moving all the time until John made him sit with him and held him close to his body. Only then Sherlock relaxed a little bit.

“Listen, love. I believe we have been found. It's better to be prepared. Let's pack our bags and be ready to run.”

“You are right...” Sherlock sadly replied. John packed his bag and was done quickly since he hadn't that much. Sherlock sadly looked at his experiments and all the boxes and carefully stored them away. Perhaps he would be able to come back and continue what he had started. He stuffed all his notes into a bag together with his other things.

They left nothing personal behind but kept waiting since they had no idea where to go or where to hide.

John had cooked lunch and made Sherlock eat when they heard a car. At once, John pulled his gun from behind the hem of his jeans and hurried towards the window. Sherlock stood and swallowed. But soon he saw John relax and store the gun away. John turned his head.

“It's Sebastian. But he is not alone.” Outside, Sebastian climbed out of the car and ran towards the door. John ripped it open and Tom was by his side again. This time though he didn't attack Sebastian. Two men secured the car and the surroundings.

“I see you know what's going on. Have you seen something?” Sebastian asked.

“Unmarked helicopter.” John replied and Sebastian nodded.

“We have to leave at once. I brought security.” Sherlock had picked up their bags in the meantime and came up to them.

“Where are we going?” He quietly asked while Sebastian ushered him outside taking the bags from him. He threw the bags into the trunk and made him sit in the back of the car. John followed suit pulling Tom along. Sebastian sat with them and the two men sat in the front. They quickly rode away and Sherlock didn't look back.

***

Sebastian brought them to another place right in the middle of a small town. It was just a simple house between other houses where actually other people lived. They arrived in complete darkness and went inside. Tom followed the two men who looked through the whole place and secured windows and the back door while Sebastian talked to both John and Sherlock.

“This is a personal place, so please don't destroy anything.” Sebastian tried to smile but Sherlock just looked dead tired and hopeless. John looked tense but at least he smiled.

“Tell us what happened. What about the plan and the trap?” John quietly asked.

“The trap worked. He even showed up but brought security. They are all dead but they did their job and he escaped barely scratched.” Sebastian admitted. Sherlock snorted and shook his head with his eyes closed.

“Now he has been warned. He will use everything in his power to find and get us. You, too.” Sherlock looked at him.

“He may try.” Sebastian looked very dangerous. He was angry, very much so.

“What about Greg?” John asked. Sebastian cleared his throat.

“Well, by now he has been fired. He is out of work but still up north.” John closed his eyes.

“Fuck...” He said and deeply sighed. Sherlock looked stressed.

“This is all happening because of me. I can't do this anymore. I just can't let this happen to people. I need to go...” He hectically panted.

“Don't say it!” John barked and Sherlock jerked. He considerably paled and cast his eyes. He also stopped moving.

“Captain.” Sebastian just said and tilted his head. John glared at him but turned his head. At once, his face softened and he reached out. Sherlock though moved away and shook his head.

“Please, I am sorry. I just...” But Sherlock just shook his head and his whole body was turned away by now.

John looked helplessly at Sebastian who made a gesture for him to leave the room. John's eyes widened but he stood and grabbed their bags to pack the things away. This time Tom followed him.

Sherlock carefully looked up after John had left. He turned his head and looked at Sebastian.

“Will you please listen to me?” Sebastian asked and Sherlock slowly nodded.

“OK, well. You can't go back. Good men risked everything to save you. Greg initiated the whole thing when he came to my boss to ask for help. John met you in the hospital and he fell in love with you. Deeply. I know him for ages and know, he is serious. He doesn't want you to get hurt. He doesn't want you to go back.” Sherlock had listened to everything and now cleared his throat.

“I know all that. But I do love him, too. And I don't want him to die. How could I live with that? Everything that happens or has happened, is because of me. It's the only solution.” Sherlock said.

“No, I don't agree. Your brother doesn't yet know who ganged up against him. Jim is raging right now and will do everything to fulfil the contract. He doesn't think about payback anymore. This has become personal.”

“Do you know what Jim has against him? Why did he almost walk into the trap? I mean, isn't it something you simply could make public? Give evidence and make the authorities destroy him and his network?”

Sherlock didn't want to give up, not John and not what he had found. Freedom. Love.

“It's not Jim's way of doing things.” Sebastian shook his head.

“You know, I have seen things. My brother never thought of hiding things from me. He didn't think I could make any use of it. And I saw a lot. Why don't I tell Jim and he could see what to make with it?” Sherlock looked a bit hopeful again. Sebastian worried his lips and thought about it.

“Let me ask him right away.” He finally said and got his mobile. He started to text. The reply almost came instantly and he raised a brow. Then he texted again. This got repeated a few times. Sherlock watched for a few seconds but then lifted his head to look for John. But he hadn't come back.

Sherlock wondered if he should go and look for him but he didn't know if this was OK. Did John want to be found or would he prefer to be alone? Sherlock had no idea and kept sitting on the sofa.

“Go and get him back here, Sherlock. He should hear this, too.” Sebastian suddenly said and smiled. Sherlock stood at once and walked upstairs where John had disappeared.

He slowly walked over the aisle and finally found the bedroom. The door stood a bit ajar and he carefully pushed it open standing in the doorway. And there he was. Tom was by his side on the bed and had placed his head on his shoulder.

John sat on the edge of the bed. His elbows were on his knees and supporting his head. And he was crying. It happened quietly but his shoulders shook. Sherlock stood shell-shocked. What was he supposed to do now?

After a few seconds, he slowly approached him and carefully placed his large hand on top of John's head. He instantly stilled and sighed. Then he looked up. His face was blotchy and his cheeks were red.

“Don't do it, please?” His voice was rough and his eyes pleading.

“I won't. I promise. I talked to Sebastian and he has something to tell us. Will you please join us downstairs again?” Sherlock quietly said.

“Of course. Let me just wash my face. I'll be right back.” He stood and Sherlock sat down on the bed with Tom. He exhaled. He had done it.

***

Downstairs Sebastian was on the phone again and talked to someone. And he spoke Polish; Sherlock was able to understand. Interesting, he thought. He spoke rapidly and he talked about weapons and hiding and tons of money. Jim's network seemed to reach far. Sherlock was impressed. James Moriarty was such an interesting person.

John sat with Sherlock and also watched Sebastian. He understood nothing. The Eastern languages weren't his forte but he was able to speak Pashtu and several Afghan dialects.

Right then, Sebastian hung up and looked at them.

“You will be staying here. The houses left and right from this are manned with my people. You are safe for now. In the meantime, Jim will come here and talk to you, Sherlock. And if you don't mind, I will be staying here until James arrives.” Sherlock looked at John who in return nodded.

“Sure thing, Seb. You are good company. I am sure this place is stocked, too?” John already stood.

“Yes, it is. I will work until dinner is ready. Sherlock, would you please join me?” He looked at him and Sherlock very much wanted to go and work with him but he didn't dare just doing so. Instead, he looked at John for confirmation. But John just turned his back on him and disappeared into the kitchen. Sherlock looked helpless.

“He just told you it's your decision only.” Sebastian said. For just a second Sherlock closed his eyes and exhaled.

“I will join you.” Sherlock quietly said and followed Sebastian into another room. It was an office with the most interesting appliances. Sherlock looked around and wondered again about James Moriarty.

They sat at a desk facing a screen. Sebastian explained their actions and even showed him some pictures of Greg in uniform and then at his new shabby place up north.

“But you don't have to worry about him. He is doing fine because he knows it's only temporarily. We support him so he has enough money and will survive. His reputation will be fully restored after we are done with your brother.”

“You really seem to be convinced.” Sherlock thoughtfully said.

“I know Jim. I know what he is capable of. Even if it takes a bit longer than we first estimated, he will do it.” Sebastian looked like he was dreaming, seeing something before his eyes. He even smiled a little.

“You are deeply in love with him, aren't you?” Sherlock curiously asked and Sebastian looked into his eyes.

“Absolutely. He saved me. He found me in the gutter, dirty and drunk and broke. He found out who I was and what I did in the army. He offered me a place, not only in his organisation but in his life.”

“I suppose you are not doing legal things for him.” Sherlock said all serious and it made him laugh.

“No, not really. In the army, I was a Colonel. I was a sniper. The perfect marksman for very dark ops. That's how I met Johnny-boy. We were the same. We had the same skills. We became best friends.”

“And now you are using your skills for James Moriarty.” Sebastian just shrugged and grinned. Slowly a grin came up on Sherlock's face, too. He really liked this Sebastian.

Sebastian thought how attractive this man was and how intelligent, too. Jim would like him, as well.

The next hour Sherlock told him everything he remembered, everything he had seen. Sebastian wildly typed into the computer and his skills were very good with this, too. Not like John, Sherlock thought, who typed like an eagle looking for a mouse from above.

But to him, it didn't matter since he had started to type the medical reports for John after a short time and to be busy and useful. John hadn't minded at all, he was glad about it.

“Dinner is ready!” John shouted from the living room and both Sherlock and Sebastian stood and stretched.

“This is very good already. Jim will be very pleased.” Sebastian said.

“I hope he can work with this.” Sherlock replied and they joined John outside who had already set up the table in the living room. They sat down and Sherlock eyed the large bowl with pasta. He licked his lips looking at John.

“Thank you.” John looked up.

“What for?” But John smiled. He knew that Sherlock loved pasta. Sebastian looked very pleased, too.

They filled their bowls and started to eat. Suddenly, Sebastian's mobile dinged.

“Forgive me.” He pulled it out of his pocket and looked. Then he smiled.

“Jim is about to arrive. I'll get a bowl for him, too. He needs to eat.” Sebastian murmured and stood.

“John, could you please stop Tom from jumping him? He won't like it.” John nodded and talked to Tom about another visitor. He kept him close.

“I am looking forward to meet this Jim.” John said and Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, me too. Sebastian really loves the man. He must be special.” Both men looked towards the door and stood when Sebastian opened it after having looked out of the window. Tom perked up his ears but didn't make a sound. His tail though slowly moved.

“Come in, Jimmy. You'll freeze to death out there.” A short man entered the house only clad in a fancy suit.

“I smell food.” He said instead of a greeting but he took his hand. Sebastian kicked the door closed and pulled him up to the table.

“Meet my old friend Captain Watson, John, and Sherlock Holmes.” He introduced them and James Moriarty first looked at John. He actually scanned him. John felt a bit scrutinised but not in a bad way.

Finally, Moriarty tilted his head and reached out with his hand. John shook it.

“Thanks for everything so far, Mr Moriarty.” John smiled.

“You are welcome, Johnny-boy. You brought me the most interesting case so far.” They let go of each other and now James turned to Sherlock.

“Hello, Sherlock. Sebastian tells me you have excellent intel.” Again, James reached out and Sherlock slowly shook his hand.

“I hope so.” Sherlock did not thank him. They stared into each other's eyes for a rather long time until Sebastian placed his large hand on James' shoulder.

“John was kind enough to provide dinner for us. There is enough for you, too. Please, sit down and join us.” James rolled his eyes and sighed. But he sat down. Sebastian first handed him a disinfectant wipe and then filled the bowl for him pushing it over. It was only half-filled.

“Won't you introduce me to him?” Moriarty looked at Tom. Tom stared back. Both didn't move an inch but Tom's tail still slowly wagged.

“Tom, this is James. Be nice.” Sherlock said low-voiced and Tom's ears moved.

“James, meet Tom. He belongs to John and me. Be nice, too.” Sherlock looked at him and James actually smiled.

“Will do.” He lowered his body and reached out. Tom got up and came closer. Then he actually slobbered all over Jim's hand who let him. He actually grinned. Sebastian though got another disinfectant wipe. He handed it over after James was done.

They all continued to eat and Sherlock emptied his bowl. By now he knew it was just fine to take a second helping all by himself and that was what he did. John watched him and was so proud of him. This felt so good.

James actually emptied his bowl and shoved it over to Sebastian again without words. He simply filled it again and pushed it back. It seemed to be some sort of ritual and it worked.

“Would someone like a wine or a drink?” John asked standing up.

“Yes, please.” Sherlock said. Sebastian nodded.

“Yes to both.” James said. John collected the dirty dishes and carried everything into the kitchen. Sherlock never got up to help because he already talked to James Moriarty. They had locked eyes and were now slowly walking into the office. Sebastian looked quite a bit surprised.

“Don't be jealous, Seb.” John had just returned carrying a bottle of red wine and four glasses.

“Am not.” But he still looked into the direction they had disappeared to.

“Are.” John grinned and turned his head towards the whiskey. Sebastian slowly moved over there and got the whiskey and tumblers. They followed them into the office.

Sherlock and James had settled in front of the computer and James had adjusted the desk chair to his height. Now they were talking rapidly, even finishing each other's sentences.

James was very much impressed of Sherlock Holmes. This man was intelligent. He had a remarkable brain. Just like himself. While they talked, James changed languages and Sherlock just followed.

Suddenly they looked at each other and fondly smiled, grinned even. John cleared his throat. At once, Sherlock looked up and he actually raised a brow. John handed over the wine.

“Thank you.” Sherlock said and his eyes turned back to the computer already. John shook his head.

“Never mind them.” Sebastian said and placed Jim's wine beside him on the desk.

“We are sort of useless right now. Let's sit over there and wait for something to happen.” Sebastian pulled John away and they sat in two armchairs by the window. The office was rather comfy and John settled. A while later Tom came in here, too, and settled close to John.

***

After several hours Sherlock leant back and looked at James who looked back.

“This could work but John won't be pleased.” Sherlock quietly said.

“This is the only way.” James shrugged.

“I know. I will do it. No matter what. I will tell him tonight.” Sherlock stood and looked over to John.

“Sebby? Come here. We need to arrange things.” James ordered and Sebastian stood and took over Sherlock's place. He had no idea what they had been doing but James looked excited.

“Good night. We are going to bed.” John held Sherlock's hand and they disappeared upstairs with Tom on their heels.

“Good night. We will stay with you.” Sebastian said and they parted.

Upstairs, Sherlock was the first in the bath and shed his clothes on the way. He quickly freshened up and brushed his teeth. He was very tired and his eyes were rather smallish by now. Only clad in his boxers he came back out and hoped for a warm pyjama. He knew he had packed one. And John really had hung it over the heating. He shot him a thankful look and John smiled back on his way into the bath. Sherlock quickly dressed and put on warm socks, too. He quickly climbed under the blanket and waited for John.

John in the meantime thought about the evening, how quickly Sherlock's behaviour had changed around Moriarty. He had done and achieved something John hadn't. It was quite a bit weird. But Sebastian was positive about it and John knew he could trust him.

By now, he too had lost his job in the clinic but he hoped James would restore his reputation when everything was over. John knew he would fight for his life with Sherlock, whatever the costs were. He didn't mind. He loved him.

Even if he worked for James Moriarty in the end, it wouldn't matter to him. He needed to earn money. He was a doctor and a soldier. Surely, James could provide a job for him. Perhaps even for Sherlock when he was ready.

He climbed into bed, too, and moved up close. He looked up at him and smiled. Tom had settled on the small rug by the bed.

“You look tired.” He whispered. Sherlock weakly smiled already being on his back.

“I am. I am also very sated and positive about tonight. James Moriarty can do it, John. He has a plan I need to talk to you about. I know you won't like it but you have to trust him. Trust me. Can you do that?” He whispered.

Suddenly John's guts coiled and he tensed.

“I assume, I just have to.” He smiled a bit weakly and pecked a kiss on his nose.

“Talk to me, love.” Sherlock licked his lips after having wrinkled his nose. John loved that look.

“After I had told Jim everything about what I have seen and heard, he found something to bite into. You surely know that Jim is the head of a criminal organisation, a _Napoleon of Crime_ , so to say. He has his fingers in many pies, as Sebby has put it. Well, he also does human trafficking. He will arrange pictures of me. It will look like if I was on sale. There will be an auction. He already found out that my brother very often finds his _partners_ there. No one knows these people and they just disappear after having been used up. No one cares.” John swallowed but didn't interrupt.

“Seb will look after me. He is his second in command and will make sure that no harm will come to me. And you know that I know how to behave.” Now Sherlock quietly snorted.

“It will surely lure my brother out. He wants to get me back and this way he can simply put money on the table and get me. Very simple. Not dangerous at all.” Sherlock sadly smiled. John cleared his throat.

“It actually sounds good. But it will be very traumatic for you. Do you really think you will manage?” John cupped his face with his smaller hand.

“You will be there for me. You will take care of me. And when it's all over and done, Tom will be back with me again, too, won't he? He will help me, too.” John smiled.

“Yes, to all of that.” He kissed him and Sherlock relaxed beneath him closing his eyes. He fell asleep while John kissed him. The moment he wasn't responsive anymore, John stopped and looked at him. Then he shook his head and smiled. He moved up close and pulled up the blanket over both of them. He placed his head under his arm and closed his eyes. He kept inhaling his man's scent until he fell asleep, too.

***

Meanwhile downstairs, James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran arranged everything.

“I want you to stay close to Sherlock Holmes all the time. The other men don't know about the plan, only you do.”

“I sure will. I really don't want him to get hurt.” They looked at each other.

“Very good. This is really as good as it promised to be.”

“I am already looking forward to kill that bloody bastard.” Sebastian whispered.

“Unfortunately, you have to do it quickly. Meaning, I can't enjoy it either.” Both men sighed.

“There will be other times. Plus, you will get rid of a worthy opponent.” James hummed and changed the topic.

“I bet they are inside the master bedroom, aren't they?” He looked at Sebastian licking his lips.

“We never really needed a bedroom.” Sebastian said grinning.

“No, we did not.” James spread his legs and relaxed into the desk chair. Sebastian got out of his chair and down on his knees. His large hands were placed on James' thighs and he carefully pushed his jacket to the side. He opened his trousers and pulled the zip.

“No boxers? Jimmy, really!” Sebastian grinned and his green eyes sparkled. He gently pulled out his cock and stroked it.

“I expected something nice. And you only would tear them apart anyway.” Jim smirked but soon moaned when Seb's lips closed around him and used pressure moving up and down. James became hard in no time at all and his fingers scratched over Sebastian's scalp.

While sucking him, he opened his dress-shirt. His fingers teased his nipples and his prick twitched. Their eyes met and James knew what Sebastian needed. Wanted.

He used both hands to hold his head. His grip was firm when he pressed him down. His dick disappeared completely inside Sebastian's mouth and his eyes fluttered close. He didn't cough but swallowed around the head sticking inside his throat. They repeated this several times until James stood up never pulling out.

He started to push into him and Sebastian knew it was time to let go. His hands came together on his lower back and he held them there while being face-fucked.

James spread his legs a bit wider and increased the speed. He kept holding his cock in place for long seconds cutting off Seb's ability to breathe. He also closed his nostrils and Sebastian didn't even twitch. He simply kept swallowing.

It turned James on like nothing else.

He held back as long as he could until he came deep down Sebastian's throat who licked his lips and slowly stood.

Now came the second part of their ritual. Very slowly Sebastian got his jacket off and hung it over the chair. The dress-shirt stayed. He pulled his dress-trousers down and turned him around bending him over the desk. He opened his fly and his cock sprang free. It was huge, just like himself. He grabbed his hips and pressed between his legs first while he also fumbled for the lube.

“Forget it, tiger.” Moriarty hissed from down below, one cheek pressed on the desk. Sebastian smirked and took his wrists on his lower back holding them with one hand. His free hand clawed into his hip. He lined up and pushed into him.

James stood on his toes and moved with him. Sebastian fucked him hard and wild. They only did it this way while being busy with an interesting case. And this was the most interesting case they had in ages. Both men were excited and aroused.

Sebastian kept rubbing over his prostate with every single push. He pressed him down with his full weight and his hand changed from his hip up to his hair. He took several of his black strands and pulled his head up. James's scalp burnt and he panted. 

Breathing became difficult and it aroused him even more.

Seb shot his load into him and stayed put for a moment while rubbing his cock until he came again. Both men were sweaty but felt great. Sebastian helped James up and pulled him into his arms.

“You should rest a little bit. There is a guest-room and you know it. Please? I'll clean up here and get fresh air inside.” He kissed him.

“You are right. At least, for a few hours.” He looked tired now and walked upstairs half-naked. Sebastian did clean the desk and everything and let fresh air inside. Afterwards, he secured the window again and followed him. He already was fast asleep when Sebastian joined him. He shook his head and set the alarm.

Tomorrow would be a busy day.


	8. On Sale

The next morning Sebastian woke before the alarm and switched it off to not wake James who still slept. He quietly and quickly showered and got dressed. He was hungry after yesterday and rubbed over his six-pack when walking downstairs.  
Sherlock already was busy in the kitchen and turned his head when Sebastian approached.

“Good morning.” His ever-changing eyes roamed over his body and he raised a brow. Then he turned away.

“Morning.” Sebastian yawned. He wanted coffee. Desperately.

“Over there.” Sherlock said and Sebastian turned. There was freshly brewed coffee. Could the man read his mind? He wondered. He was convinced that James could. And they were similar. So, why not?

“Are you making pancakes?” Sebastian asked sitting on the counter.

“Not yet.” Sherlock replied.

“Scrambled eggs?” He tried to look but failed.

“Yes. As well as toast, cucumbers, tomatoes, sausages, beans, whatever.”

“Perfect!” Sebastian said and let his long legs dangle. Sherlock wasn't irritated by the man in his back. Suddenly Tom walked into the kitchen and sat down looking up at him.

“There you are. I was wondering if you slept in, too.” Sherlock said and took his bowl from the floor. Tom's tail waggled wildly. He opened a can and mixed it with dry dog food.

“Here, have your breakfast.” He placed it in the corner and also poured him fresh water. Sebastian drank his coffee and watched him. He looked more content than the first time he met him. He would manage.

Soon after John appeared being dressed already.

“Morning.” He yawned and poured himself a coffee. Sherlock smiled over his shoulder while cooking. John came closer and lifted his head to kiss him. Sherlock lowered his head and their lips met.

“Sebby!” The voice rang through the house. Sherlock grinned and John looked rather surprised. Even Tom had perked his ears.

Sebastian though simply jumped off the counter and poured another mug with coffee he carried upstairs.

“His Majesty has woken and demands coffee.” He shrugged and left. John shook his head. Then he eyed the food Sherlock had prepared.

“This is just what I need.” John said licking his lips. He took plates and scanned the offerings.

“I thought this is what everyone needs this morning. Yesterday was very exhausting.” Sherlock said.

“It sure was. You most of all need all the strength you can muster.”

“I know that...” Sherlock said and switched off the oven. They placed everything on the table and sat down. Soon they were joined by both Moriarty and Moran. James was very much awake and kept talking about their plan. And he looked rather different from yesterday because he had jeans and a t-shirt on. It was an interesting change of appearance. And he actually ate a lot.

“Yesterday, after you two had gone to bed, Sebby and myself have worked on the plan. We are almost done organising everything and I want to talk to you some more, Sherlock. You will need some time to think about it and adjust. Then you can talk to Johnny-boy here. But don't take too long.” They locked eyes.

Actually, Sherlock wasn't scared of James Moriarty. It was obvious he was simply fascinated.

“I have mentally prepared already. You know what my so-called _brother_ did to me. I know very well how to behave during the preparation and the auction. He will want to end it quickly, does not want to take the risk that someone else might bid higher.” Moriarty slowly nodded.

“That's right. He will put the money on the table, money I will keep, and Sebastian here will have you brought into another room where he is supposed to pick you up. Sebby will always be close to you and you will never be alone with him. He will offer him the most expensive and therefore his favourite whiskey to celebrate the deal. He will drink and then he will die. Game over.” James shrugged and finished off the scrambled eggs before John could take some.

“Surely Sebastian will be expected to join him for a drink? Won't he be poisoned, too?” John asked and Sherlock smiled.

“He will receive an antidote and therefore won't die. You don't have to worry.” He placed his large hand on John's.

“And what about you? How will you cope?” John sounded worried.

“I will look forward to the freedom we will enjoy. I will finally be free. We will be living in your flat and you will be working as a doctor again. Greg will come back from Scotland and his reputation will be restored.” Sherlock exhaled and kept going.

“Yes, I will suffer. Yes, it will hurt me badly. But I know it's necessary. I trust the plan. I also trust Sebastian. He will be with me all the time. And even though he won't talk to me or acknowledge me, I know he will be there for me.”

Sebastian nodded and James looked very pleased. John wasn't completely convinced but he sadly smiled.

“I know it's the only way to lure him out. You will do it. You will survive it. And afterwards I will take care of you.” Tom once barked and it made Sebastian grin and fondly pat his head.

“I have video surveillance all over the place. Johnny-boy, you can watch everything online. You can do it alone or together with me. If you want to watch, that is.” James offered.

“I want to watch but not alone. I couldn't stand it. So, thank you for the offer. I will join you.”

“Very good. It's settled then.” James looked at Sebastian.

“This is a _Go!_.” Sebastian took his mobile. He typed something and nodded in confirmation.

“Done.” Sebastian stood and turned to Sherlock.

“Get ready. We will be leaving shortly.” Sherlock looked at John and they disappeared upstairs. They stood in the bedroom and held each other.

“I will be safe with him. I will be back and my brother will be dead by then. I love you, John. Very much. You are the man from my dream, the one who called out for me amongst the flowers.” Sherlock whispered.

“I love you so much. When I first saw you in the hospital, I was shocked. I pitied you. Soon I fell in love with you. I know you were abused and mistreated. It just couldn't be. I trust Sebastian and Moriarty, I really do. I will be with you. Always. I will be watching with James and I will welcome you back as soon as possible.” They kissed languidly until Sherlock pushed back.

“It's time.” John nodded and tried to be strong. Somehow though, he failed. Sherlock saw it and looked stern.

“Soldiers.” He raised a brow and John straightened his body. His face hardened.

“Soldiers!” He replied and holding each other's hands, they walked downstairs again. They parted by the door and Sherlock lowered his body to hug Tom, too. The dog whined as if knowing something was going on. Something he didn't like at all. Sherlock let go and looked at James.

“See you soon, Jim.” James broadly smiled and nodded.

“Promise!” He smirked and waved. He seriously looked at Sebastian who smiled back.

“Come on, Sherlock. We have to go.” Sherlock followed him outside and into a car. They rode away. John looked until the car had disappeared around a corner. He slowly exhaled and closed the door.

***

Moriarty knew he had to keep John busy. Made him talk. Whatever. And he started the moment John had closed the door.

“Why don't you speak to DI Lestrade? The line is secure and so is the place he lives in now. We took care of that.” John looked up and chewed on his lips.

“Yeah, I'd like that. May I tell him what's going on?” John asked.

“Tell him whatever you like.” James shrugged and left John inside the office having written down Greg's number before leaving him. The connection was built and John became rather excited.

“Yeah?” There was Greg on the line. John cleared his throat.

“This is John. How are you doing?” For a few seconds, there was silence coming from the other end.

“Johnny! I am just fine. I have everything I need. I know Moriarty will make it right. What about you? And Sherlock? And Tom?” He wanted to know everything. John smiled and relaxed back into the desk-chair. And he told him everything. Greg listened and didn't interrupt once.

“Well, this sounds like a sensible plan. Sherlock can do it. He is strong, stronger than we thought. Plus, he is with Moran. I met him. He will protect him with his life.”

“Yes, I am still feeling a bit off though.” John said.

“That's understandable. You love the man. You miss him. He is in grave danger and you are sitting around. Useless.”

“You know me too well...” But John smiled.

“I sure do. Well, I expect to be invited to the celebration party afterwards. Call me again!”

“Will do!” They hung up and John closed his eyes. This had been the right thing to do.

John stood and went to find James. He found him in the living room lounging on the sofa. And Tom sat by his side. He looked at him from upside-down.

“Johnny-boy, are you done already?” He asked with his weird Irish accent that sometimes came out clearly and sometimes not.

“Yes, I am. When are we starting to watch what is happening?” He asked looking at him. James lifted his arm to look at his very expensive watch.

“In about three hours. Until then you could provide lunch. I also have several questions for you regarding several ops you have done.” They locked eyes.

“Sure thing. At first, though, I will have a bloody drink. Somewhere it's already late enough.” John muttered and turned away. James quietly laughed.

“For me, too!” James demanded and John poured whiskey into two tumblers. James was actually following him and now sat on the counter in the kitchen watching him. John leant against the oven and both men sipped their drinks.

“What do want to know about my ops? You should know already since I did them with Seb.” John said being quite a bit clueless.

“Yes, that's right. But I want to hear it from you. Listen to you telling me about it.” James said.

“You want to analyse Sebastian. You do trust him but you want to see the differences, another view.” John smirked.

“You are a doctor. You must see some things differently.” James stared at John and sipped his drink.

“I sure do. We often discussed things, even quarrelled about it. But in the end we always did what we had to.”

“I see.” James replied.

John downed his drink and turned away to start lunch.

***

Sebastian drove them to Bristol where the auction would be held. He had stopped the car while driving through a forest.

“You have to get into the trunk now.” Sherlock nodded.

“I know. But shouldn't I be restrained? Drugged?” Sebastian looked at him.

“I thought it might be a bit too much for you.” He quietly said but Sherlock shook his head.

“It must look real, Seb. We can't risk anything. What if there are people of my brother's team watching the event? The building? It must look like the real thing. I can do it, remember?” Sherlock even smiled.

“As you wish.” He said and they got out of the car. Sherlock turned his back to him while he opened the trunk. He used leather cuffs on his wrists and closed them on his lower back. He pulled a leather mask over his head and buckled both the blindfold and the attached collar.

“Don't ever forget that it's me. I will always be close to you and ensure that no harm will come to you.” He once stroked over his arm and then put the gag into his mouth and buckled it, too.

Sherlock was completely relaxed. He had mentally prepared himself. He had promised everyone he could manage. And he would.

Sebastian manoeuvred him into the trunk where he got hooked to the bottom. He added cuffs around his ankles, too. He lowered his head and spoke close to his ears so Sherlock could hear him through the mask.

“There is oxygen supply in here. You can breathe all the time. Here, take this. If something is wrong, press it.” Sebastian tried to shove it into his hands but Sherlock made fists and shook his head. Sebastian understood. It wouldn't look right. He sighed and took it away again. Once more, he patted him before he closed the lid.

Sherlock was caught in the dark, alone with his thoughts. But he knew everything was part of their plan to destroy his brother and give him his life back. Give him a life he actually deserved.

He knew every part of the plan. He knew what to do and how to behave. It would work.

While driving his body bumped inside the trunk and he would surely be bruised. He didn't mind though. A few bruises were worth the result. A few hours as a slave in a cage would be worth the result. Being naked in front of other people, potential buyers, would be worth the result.

He actually was worried about John. He was alone with Moriarty. Hopefully, he would be able to cope with the situation. He would be able to see him naked, being presented, sitting in a cage, tied up. Later he would be kneeling on a pedestal to be looked at and to be touched.

But it would only be for a few hours until his brother had made the final bid. Then he would be led into the other room to have his drink with Sebastian who would act as the leader of the trafficking ring and would congratulate him.

Sebastian had asked him if he wanted to be present. If he wanted to watch his brother die. And he had said _Yes_. He absolutely wanted to watch his brother suffer and die. Even if it would be on his knees, probably gagged, but it didn't matter. He would be able to watch. The thought kept him upright.

Sebastian didn't drive for a long time. Sherlock estimated about one hour and he prepared to be led out. And right he was. The car stopped, there was a noise as if a garage was opened, and the car rolled on for a few metres. Then it finally stopped. There were voices and Sebastian talked, too. And he sounded different. He sounded like being in charge.

The trunk got opened and he got pulled out. It was Sebastian, Sherlock was able to sense him. He pressed on his shoulders and Sherlock fell on his knees.

“Get me a leash. I want him to walk. No, not the cage. That will be for later. Move!” Sebastian yelled at someone and there were steps around him.

Sebastian's hand rested around his shoulder and it felt comforting. Sherlock was completely relaxed. He felt the leash being hooked to the collar and the rough pull. He leant back and pushed himself up. Someone unhooked the ankle cuffs and another pull made him walk by Sebastian's side.

“Listen, Dave. This one is of great importance to Mr Moriarty. No one will touch him. Only me. I will take care of everything and also prepare and dress him up. So, go and get me the bloody clothes!” He yelled again and someone quickly moved away.

Sebastian pulled him into the room and signalled him to stand. Sherlock stood on the spot and didn't move.

One more time, the door was opened and someone brought stuff, probably the clothes or whatever Sebastian wanted to prepare him with. Then it became quiet. Seb once touched him to make clear that he was still around and he was in no danger.

Sherlock just waited for something to happen. He knew he had to shower and make his hair. Then the mask came off and Sherlock blinked into the light. Sebastian unhooked the cuffs around his wrists, too. They didn't speak but Seb gestured him over towards a bath and Sherlock nodded and disappeared inside. He knew what was expected.

In the meantime, Sebastian changed into a hand-tailored suit and shoes. He arranged his hair, put some products into it, and finally put glasses on his nose. He looked a totally different man. But he needed to impress Mycroft Holmes who would only accept people like himself. People dressed in the most expensive garments and shoes. With cufflinks other people could buy a house from.

Sebastian had become used to it since he was Jim's second in command. Sometimes he even liked it. Not today though.

Sherlock came back and he was completely naked. He wasn't shy. He had lost his innocence a long time ago. Sebastian couldn't but let his eyes roam over the man's body, saw the scars and the branding. He swallowed and locked eyes with Sherlock. There was a promise in those dark green eyes that made Sherlock shiver.

He picked up the provided clothes which turned out to be just a set of scrubs. Black scrubs. Nice on his skin and easy to remove with a rip of the fabric.

Sebastian questioningly tilted his head and Sherlock once nodded. Seb held up his watch and Sherlock swallowed. It was time then. He hadn't realised how much time the transport really had taken. Obviously longer than he had felt it.

Sherlock wondered since when John was watching and if he was watching at all. He must be strong for the man he loved or it would destroy him.

The leash was hooked back on and the cuffs were closed on his lower back. Sebastian opened the door and led him through the aisles up to an elevator. They rode down and left inside the basement. The walls were rough and naked but there were voices close by. There also was a stage and Sherlock stared at the curtain. He had witnessed this before but from the other side. His so-called brother had forced him to join an auction where one of his college-friends was sold. It was part of a punishment and Sherlock would never forget it.

But now he straightened his body and grounded his teeth. He didn't look at Sebastian.

Another man came up to them and handed him several sheets of paper. Sebastian hummed and seemed to be pleased. Did that mean that his brother already was on the other side of the curtain?

“Very good, Dave. I am very pleased and so is Mr Moriarty. Get in front of the curtain and do the announcement. We will start with the others and keep this one for the rest of the show.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dave left and Sebastian pulled Sherlock off the stage and to the side. They just stood there and Sherlock watched the auction taking place. Several men and women were presented and they were all bought by different people.

Suddenly Sebastian's fingers were in his hair and he tensed. He hadn't expected this but didn't even flinch once. Something tiny was pressed into his hear and suddenly he was able to hear James and John in his ear.

And he was so very thankful when hearing John. He closed his eyes and relaxed completely.

“It's time. Dave? Dim the light and change the music.” Sebastian said and Sherlock knew he would soon face his brother.

***

John kept murmuring words into his ear, ensured him of his love and his knowledge of his strength. Moriarty described in detail how the poison would work and in how much pain his brother would soon be.

All this helped Sherlock along when the curtain rose and he stood in the middle of a spotlight, Sebastian by his side. There were only a few people left. Not that Sherlock would be able to see them but Moriarty kept describing everything to him.

Sebastian started the auction and right away there was his brother's voice. The cold seeped through Sherlock's body and John took over again.

Soon he had outbid everyone and it was over and done. Sebastian congratulated him from above and sent David to bring him into the room to deal with the details, mostly the payment. Moriarty wanted to keep the money, so he had to pay for Sherlock first. Only then he would be offered his final drink.

Sebastian led Sherlock into another room. It was some sort of drawing room with sofas and armchairs and a bar. Sherlock still wore the scrubs since his brother hadn't asked to get if off and away. He knew how he looked anyway.

They locked eyes, and Sebastian once nodded pushing the glasses up his nose. He straightened his body and turned towards the door. Sherlock knelt with his eyes on the ground. Only his hands were cuffed on his lower back but he wasn't gagged or blindfolded.

The door got opened and David appeared leading his brother inside. God, Sherlock was able to smell him. He also heard him sharply inhale.

“Mr Holmes, congratulations. I believe everything is in order?” Sebastian asked politely.

“It sure is, Colonel Moran.” The voice indicated he was smiling and now he slowly came closer. Sherlock tensed, he couldn't help it. Inside his ear, there were the murmured words of love and revenge from both John and James.

“There you are, brother-dear. Finally. The good doctor took you away from me. He will be next on my list.” By now, he had reached his brother and stood very close. Sherlock's eyes were glued to the ground and his forehead almost touched his groin. He smelled his sex. He was repelled and almost became sick. But he didn't move.

Not even when his brother placed his palm on his head.

“We are still waiting for the transfer confirmation, Mr Holmes. Would you like a drink in the meantime?” He turned around and looked at the offerings. He glimpsed his favourite whiskey and quickly nodded.

“Yes. I can see Mr Moriarty has style. I gladly accept.” He didn't move away from Sherlock and his hand stayed.

Sebastian smiled and stepped up to the bar. He took a tumbler and added two ice cubes. Then he poured the expensive malt from a private distillery in Scotland. He repeated the action for himself always being watched. He carried it over and handed it to his guest.

“Here you are, Mr Holmes. Again, congratulations!” Sebastian was relaxed and grinned. He looked amazing and his brother's eyes appreciatively rested on his attractive body.

They clinked glasses and his brother's hand left his head to change the glass into his dominant hand.

Sherlock heard both John and James hold their breath. God, he held his breath. And he waited.

He heard the ice cubes clink and the fabric of his perversely expensive suit rustle when he lifted his arm to drink. His lips touched the rim of the tumbler. From that moment James whispered a countdown into his ear.

The moment he heard the first gasp Sherlock lifted his head and looked at him. His eyes were wide but he still held the tumbler. His free hand though had moved over to his middle, his very expanded middle.

He once belched and pulled a face. He dropped the tumbler and it rolled away over the carpet. He considerably paled and Sebastian made a few steps back and around him to reach Sherlock. On his way, he got rid of his drink. He hadn't even needed to sip it.

Sherlock slowly stood and Sebastian took away the cuffs. He rubbed over his wrists and kept watching. By now, his brother had heavily fallen on his side and his breathing sounded sick. He gurgled and retched. Bloody foam slowly spilt over his lips and his eyes were wide open. He was in severe pain and still James was counting down. He was only down to 45 and it would take a while to reach zero since he was counting very slowly. He knew best how the poison worked and Sherlock would enjoy every single second of his brother's ordeal.

Slowly Sherlock moved up close and stared into his bloodshed eyes.

“What did you do?” He roughly said and Sherlock tilted his head.

“You ruined my life. You raped me. You hurt me. You tortured me. You finally branded me. This is my revenge. I will end you. You deserve to burn in hell!” Sherlock hissed and then surprisingly kicked him into his fat stomach. He groaned and lost complete control of his body. Sherlock pulled a face. He kicked him again and again.

Sebastian stood by his side and just let him. He needed this and he would let him do what he wanted.

In the meantime, Sherlock had lost the mic inside his ear. He wondered how long his fat brother would last, how long the poison needed to finish him while racing through his large body. He had stopped kicking him and was panting while towering above him.

He saw how badly he suffered. He stared into his eyes and felt no pity. None at all.

“End this... Please...” He gurgled out the words and the pain in his eyes said everything. Sherlock though shook his head.

“No. I want to see you suffer as long as it takes. I can watch you for hours and hours. I was taught patience and quiet, you know? I have all the time in the world.” Now Sherlock even grinned and it looked quite a bit mad.

Sebastian wondered how similar James and Sherlock were when it came to violence or extreme situations.

His mobile dinged and he pulled it from his pocket.

“James, what's wrong?” Sebastian asked.

“Nothing. Not with me anyway. But Johnny-boy wants to talk to you.” He handed over the mobile and there was John on the line.

“Seb, please make him stop. This can't be good.” John begged him, and he sounded so very anxious.

“I think he needs this. He needs to end this.” Sebastian said trying to convince John.

“Then give him your bloody knife or gun or whatever you carry around.” John hissed.

“I will try. But your job is to support him, John. And nothing else. Don't tell him what to do.” Sebastian hung up.

Sebastian looked over to where Sherlock was towering over his brother by now. He had stopped kicking him but was on his knees now boxing him into his middle where the poison worked on his stomach. He was sweaty and his face was rather red by now. But his eyes were focused. He wanted this. He needed this. And Sebastian decided to let him do as he liked.

He turned back towards the bar and poured an unpoisoned drink. He chose a red wine that was actually as expensive as red wine could get. He found himself a position from where he could watch the moment it was over and done.

Sherlock enjoyed every single second of his brother's ordeal. And he stared into his eyes when they finally broke.

He lowered his head and exhaled. He got up and turned away. Sebastian quickly placed his glass on the bar and walked over to him. Sherlock just came into his arms and Sebastian hugged him.

He held him for a while until Sherlock pressed back and looked up.

“Can we please leave?” He roughly asked. Sebastian nodded.

“Yes. I will just give David the order to clean up this mess.” Sebastian quickly typed a message and the man appeared only a minute later. Sebastian took Sherlock and walked him away.

No one ever wondered why there was a dead man on the ground or why Sebastian left with the sold object. They never wondered or minded anything around both Colonel Moran or James Moriarty. It was for the best.

“Would you like to talk to John?” Sebastian asked moving them upstairs and back to the car. But Sherlock shook his head.

“No. I want to sleep. I want to forget.” Sherlock whispered and fell onto the passenger seat.

“OK. I'll drive us home. Fasten your seatbelt, please.” Sherlock pulled it over his body and closed it. He leant back and closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds. Sebastian looked at him for a while longer and then sent a text.

_“We are coming back now. He is fast asleep. Mycroft Holmes is dead.”  
SM_

The reply came fast.

_“Hurry up. John is very worried.”  
JM_

Sebastian sighed and quickly left the place.

***

John stared out of the window and James wasn't able to move him away. Finally, he sighed and turned away. He poured himself a drink and sat on the sofa. He longed for Sebastian. Tom was moving up to him and squeezed his warm body between the armrest and him. Jim's hand found its way into his fur by default by now and stroked him. He found it relaxed him. And since Sebby wasn't here to be touched, so what?

This whole thing had been more exhausting than he expected.

He also was hungry but it seemed John didn't want to cook for him.

It took Sebastian three hours until he parked in front of the house. John ripped open the door and ran over to the car. Sherlock was still asleep and he hung in the seatbelt. But he looked relaxed.

“Where is Jimmy?” Sebastian asked.

“Living room. He is hungry.” John muttered opening the door. Sebastian disappeared inside frowning.

“Sherlock? Wake up, please.” Very slowly he blinked his eyes open and saw John. An open and honest smile came up and he reached out for him.

“John...” Sherlock got out of the car and stretched his body.

“I need to take a bath.” He murmured. John nodded.

“I will prepare it for you. May I sit with you?” Now Sherlock turned his head.

“What kind of question is that? Of course you may. Why wouldn't you?” Happily, John took his hand and pulled him inside.

Tom's head came up and he barked. He jumped off the sofa and raced towards Sherlock who at once hugged the dog. He got slobbered over and smiled and patted him until Tom was pleased and let go of him. But he followed them right upstairs not leaving Sherlock's side.

John caught Jim's unhappy expression and thought about keeping an eye on his dog.

Sherlock shed his scrubs in the bedroom while John scrubbed the tub. He found some fancy foam and filled it. Sherlock came inside.

“John?” He turned around and looked up at him.

“Yes?” Sherlock reached out for him.

“Hold me...” And John held him. Tight. Sherlock's hands moved over his back and pressed his whole body against his smaller one.

Finally, he sighed and climbed into the water. He groaned and closed his eyes.

John sat on the toilet-lid and just watched him. And he waited. He waited for him to speak.

A few minutes later, after having splashed a bit and moving under the water, he looked into John's eyes.

“I know you think it wasn't right. But I needed to do it. I needed to watch him die. And when it wasn't enough, I needed to hurt him myself.”

“I only was worried. I understand you needed the revenge. I only thought it was too much.”

“I am extremely exhausted. But I don't feel bad. Sick. I am hungry though. But the urge to bath was stronger.” He added the last words a few seconds later and John smiled.

“James is hungry, too, but I denied him. If it's OK I'll go downstairs and cook us a meal.” He questioningly looked at him and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, please. I'll get ready.” They smiled and John stood.

“I'll put some clothes on the bed for you.” John left and Sherlock heard him open and close the cupboard.

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes for another minute looking at the scenes that had been burnt into his head forever. But soon he would store them away into the deepest and darkest place of his brain together with all the memories connected with his damn brother.

He stood and pulled a towel from the back of the door. He ruffled through his hair and finally walked out of the bath. There were clothes on the bed. Jeans and a warm sweater. Thick socks. Sherlock smiled. This was exactly what he needed and he quickly dressed.

He jumped down the stairs together with Tom enjoying his freedom. He was finally free. He would live with John and Tom. Perhaps he could even find himself a job. He smiled and entered the living room where he found Sebastian all ruffled up. James was somewhere else. Sebastian turned around and his lips were swollen.

Sherlock tilted his head.

“He missed you, didn't he?” He asked coming closer. Sebastian sighed.

“He missed the action. He missed being there.” He explained.

“I see. But he stayed with John anyway.” Sebastian looked over his shoulder to see if John was around.

“I told him he couldn't leave him alone. He would have gone mad. He would have raged. I know his temper.”

“Really? He always seems so calm.” Sherlock wondered and Sebastian shook his head laughing.

“He could have destroyed this place. Believe me. Only with his hands and legs.” Sherlock swallowed. He needed to thank James Moriarty not only for saving his life but for taking care of John, too.

“He wanted to cook us a meal. I will join him. And you should change.” Sherlock pointed at him.

“Yes, Sir.” Sebastian mock-saluted him and disappeared upstairs. Sherlock first went to see James who sat in his office and typed wildly. He knocked on the door-frame and Jim looked up.

“There you are.” He stood and came closer looking him up and down.

“I wanted to thank you because you stayed behind and let Seb take over. You stayed with John to protect him from himself. I appreciate it.” Sherlock said and James tilted his head from left to right and back. Like a snake.

“I can always watch the video.” He shrugged.

“May I have a copy, too?” Sherlock asked and now James really looked surprised. But he nodded.

“Sure. I'll take care of that.” They looked at each other.

“John is cooking us a meal. I'll go and set up the table.” Sherlock wanted to leave but was stopped.

“Set it up for five.” James said and Sherlock raised a brow.

“Who is coming here?” He asked wondering and James grinned.

“Surprise! Now go and help John. Go!” He turned away and Sherlock left shaking his head. He set up the table, found a candle-holder and took some flowers from the window-sill. He found a table-cloth and linen serviettes. He used them all. He wanted it nice and beautiful.

He poured wine into a decanter and placed fitting glasses on the table. Water, too. And more glasses. Cutlery. He was very pleased with himself.

John brought the dessert first and stared at the table. Sherlock looked at him.

“Don't you like it?” Sherlock asked. John looked at him.

“Don't I like it? I love it! This is beautiful!” They smiled at each other.

Suddenly James came running down the stairs waving his mobile around.

“It's time for the special guest!” He passed by and ripped open the door. Both John and Sherlock looked over to him. Tom had followed him to the door and stood by his side. A car stopped at the curb and a door was opened and closed. Steps quickly came closer and finally the man was seen.

“Greg!” John cried out and came running. Sherlock followed a bit slower. He liked John like this. Greg looked good. So he hadn't really suffered.

“John, hey...” They hugged and John pulled him inside. James closed the door. Tom barked and ran around them all.

“We are complete, I see.” Sebastian had joined them, too, and they all sat down at the table after Sherlock and Greg had hugged, too.

Sebastian signalled John to sit down with Greg and got the bowls himself. First, they ate in silence. Everyone was hungry but soon everybody relaxed. James started to speak.

“Your reputation has been restored, DI Lestrade. You can return to Scotland Yard undamaged. We took care of that.” Greg smiled.

“Thanks. I was convinced you'd make it all the time. I am glad though it is finally over. The north is not mine. Too cold.” John laughed.

“John, if you like you could have a new job at Bart's in London. It can be arranged.” John tilted his head and wasn't sure if he should take the offer. Beneath the table though he was kicked by Sherlock.

“I know you want it. Do it.” The kick said and John nodded.

“Thanks. I will gladly accept.”

“My people took care of your flat. It has been fully stocked and cleaned. You can return any time you want.” Sherlock looked at John and saw how happy he was. And he was happy, too.

Everything had come to an end. His brother was dead. He was free. He could be with the man he loved. They even had a dog. John had a new job and Greg could go back to Scotland Yard.

Their relationship with both James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran would be a part of their life from now on. Sherlock didn't mind the criminal side of their organisation. If these men ever needed his help, he would happily grant it.

But for now, he just wanted to live a normal life.


End file.
